


By Any Other Name

by sleepydragon03



Category: Kung Fu Panda (Movies), ノラガミ | Noragami (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Chapters not individually tagged, Child Abuse, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Domestic Violence, F/M, Graphic depictions of violence - Freeform, Kung Fu Panda AU, Kung Fu Panda but make it dark, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mind Control, No Lifeguard on Duty: Swim at Your Own Risk, Panic Attacks, Strong Language, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:22:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 121,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24979885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepydragon03/pseuds/sleepydragon03
Summary: Yato is the son of the most feared master of chi in the land. By a twist of fate he is chosen to be the Dragon Warrior, the fighter who is destined to defeat him, but the Masters of the Jade Palace have no idea who he is, and he must keep his secret or be killed by his captors, who are holding him hostage rather than lose track of their only hope to save all of China.
Relationships: Bishamonten | Vaisravana/Kazuma, Iki Hiyori/Yato, Kofuku Binbougami/Daikoku, Rabou/Yato (Noragami), Suzuha/Yukine
Comments: 44
Kudos: 51
Collections: Noragami Big Bang 2020





	1. Prologue- A Man Without A Name

**Author's Note:**

> Finally, I am at the end of a two-year-long journey, and I am oweing thanks to a great number of people. They will be listed in no particular order. My cousin Emy, who listened to my preliminary ideas for this fic and said "fucking please write this" Maddie, who I texted at least once a week at three a.m. to scream about this fic for a good year and a half. Raelin and Tori for seeing me through the home stretch and making sure this didn't stay as a first draft. Rory, who encouraged me when I was in need of motivation. Ina, for creating Naginata Hiyori and changing my life forever. To the mods of the Bang for providing me with the reason to get off my ass and finish this.  
> And Last but not least to myself for never giving up on this fic and for working my ass off to make this massive chonk of a fic happen. (It's important to appreciate yourselves) ALSO HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME

“How about-” 

The man without a name chuckled and shook his head. “That’s a gentle name for a bandit.”

“Okay well how about--”

“Maybe.”

“You’re so hard to please! Normal people don’t get to choose their names, you know.”

“They might. What proof have you that the name someone gives you is the name their parents gave them at birth?”

“In a town this small, I also know their parents.” 

He chuckled. “Fair enough. But in the big world outside this town, when you  _ don’t _ know someone’s parents you just have to trust the name they give you is their real one.” 

“That sounds troublesome.” 

“I like it. If anyone can be anyone then everyone might be just as nameless as me.” 

“You wouldn’t be nameless if you’d just let me pick one for you,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and smiling. 

“You just haven’t found the right one yet.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know what I think? I think you’re using your name as an excuse to see me.”

“Well that’s quite a theory,” he said, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips as she dragged him back towards my door for something less chaste. “I’ll have to be back soon, or the bandits will notice I’m gone.”

“We have a little time.”

* * *

_ The boy without a name was also a boy without a family. He had been abandoned and raised by a cutthroat band of bandits. All his life he tried to fill the void in his heart with murder and money, until the day he saw her. A flash of freckles in the corner of his eye, and a blinding beauty when he turned to look at her fully. Everything changed.  _

_ The rule of his bandit crew was that there were to be no connections, no family, only the thrill of the kill. But after a month of dreaming of nothing but her he knew his mind could not rest until he saw her again, and when he saw her again, he knew his mind could not rest until he had her.  _

_ “What’s your name?” _

_ “I don’t have one.” _

_ “How do you not have a name?” _

_ “My mother never saw fit to name me before she abandoned me to the bandits that raised me.” _

_ “And the bandits never saw fit, either?” _

_ “Well, they’re bandits.”  _

_ “And are you?” _

_ “What?” _

_ “A bandit.”  _

_ “Would that scare you?” _

_ “You’ll find it hard to frighten me.” _

_ And so, he had started sneaking away to see her whenever he wasn’t away murdering and stealing, risking everything just for some time with her. The longer they went on the more invincible he felt. It seemed to him that the bandits who didn’t bother to name him didn’t bother to notice when he was gone.  _

_ But the universe, in the way it does, saw something good and decided to destroy it. _

* * *

The boy without a name returned to camp with a spring in his step and a smile concealed on his lips. Snickers followed him throughout the camp, and he wondered if he was being paranoid to think his secret might be out. 

“Look, the nameless one, he walks like a man who has just had a good lay.”

This was not necessarily indicative of his secret being out, plenty of bandits paid for laying and jokes about it were frequent. Bandits were not the respecting women sort. 

Snatches of other conversations were more worrisome to him, spurring him into action. 

“He really thinks he could keep a secret from our boss? Who does he think he is?” 

The whispers were enough for him. He turned and left, stealing a horse and riding in the direction of her fair-faced freckles, fear clenching his heart. She ran out of her hut at the sound of thundering hooves and met him at the low fence, looking concerned. 

“We have to go. Now. They know.” 

Not one for fear, she didn’t hesitate to run into the house and grab the few things she would have to take with her and then mounted the horse behind him, ready to run. 

The man without a name carried his love as fast as the horse could take him, then he sold it and bought another. 

“Do you really think they’ll follow you?”

“I don’t know, they don’t take kindly to people stealing from them.”

“Were you their property?” 

“I don’t know.”

They changed directions, hoping that if they were still being pursued this might throw off their trail. All the while his love and her freckles kept up their game of trying to find a name for him. 

“Is now really the time for this?” He asked. 

“The name we choose when we settle will be the one that you keep,” she said. 

He hadn’t thought about that. Suddenly a life stretched out in front of him, one where he and she lived together peacefully, not having to live in the stolen moments between bloodbaths. 

Something other than dread and fear started to fill his gut and he smiled. 

“How about-”

“Do you really want to spend the rest of your life with a man named-” 

“Well, maybe not.” 

The man without a name chuckled. “Something different then.” 

They ran through two more villages, then decided they had run far enough and stopped. 

“So,” she said, “the time has come to choose your name. I have one in mind that I think would suit you, but I don’t know if you’ll like it.” 

“Well, what is it?” He asked, puzzled by her sudden nervousness. She swallowed hesitantly, then smiled at him. 

“How about  _ father _ ?” 

He blinked several times, waiting for the information to process. 

“Father… you mean-” she nodded, a hand coming to rest low on her belly. A smile broke across his face as elation swooped in his gut. He picked her up and spun her around, laughing with joy. 

“Father,” he repeated. “It’s perfect.” 

She laughed, tears of joy filling her eyes. “I’m so relieved.”

“The name isn’t important; pick anything you like. The only thing that matters is what our child will call me. Father.” 

_ Father _ , he thought to himself. Now that was a title that he could get used to.

* * *

They managed to make their life there under his new name, and every time he noticed her swelling belly he felt a peace he’d never known before. They settled into a cottage that was backed up against the forest, where there was plenty of firewood and resources to be gathered. 

Everything was happy until the village broke out into screams. Father ran into the yard to see his old bandit troupe raiding the village, cutting down people as they rode through the streets. 

“Is it coincidence or are they looking for us?” She asked. 

“I don’t know, but we need to leave. Through the woods, forget the house, it’s nothing we can’t replace.” 

She nodded and grabbed the few things they couldn’t live without and they headed together into the woods, but didn’t get far. 

There were members of the bandit troupe combing the woods, and they smiled maliciously when they caught sight of him. 

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the nameless one, though, by the looks of your woman, we should be calling you ‘Father’ now.” His mocking smile was met with her fearless glare, and despite his fear, Father was overwhelmed with love for her. 

The two of them were dragged together through the woods back to the town center, where the boss was sitting looking over his loot. An evil look came over his features as he caught sight of Father. 

“Hello nameless one,” he said, leaning back on his seat like it was a throne. “What a happy coincidence that I found you here. Finally, I can punish you for stealing from me, and I know just how to do it.” He turned his gaze to her. 

“No!” Father cried. 

His former comrades caught him by the arms and held him in place, forcing him to watch as the boss cut her throat and killed their future together, all the while laughing at the sound of his agonized scream. 

They stabbed him where it would hurt the most when he died, then dumped him in the woods, far from her, robbing him of the chance to die by her side. 

A primal rage and desperation animated his dying body and he climbed to his feet, stumbling blindly in the direction he hoped she was in. He was delirious and his limbs were getting heavier and heavier, but all he knew is that he wanted to die by her side. Still, he had no idea where he was, which direction he’d been taken in, but he still kept walking. 

The man without a name was in so much pain it circled back around to being numb, so the only thing he had to fight against was the heaviness in his limbs and the blurring of his vision. He stumbled until his foot caught on a root and he hit the earth hard, jarring his wounds and bringing back all the pain. 

His only thoughts were of her, and the hope that he might get to be with her once he died.

* * *

The man without a name, without a family, opened his eyes to see that he was surrounded by a host of people with glowing golden hands outstretched. 

“I don’t understand. How am I alive?” 

“We practice an ancient healing ritual of chi granting, we saved you.” 

The first feeling that broke through his overwhelming grief was rage, rage at what had been stolen from him, both his chance to die and be by her side and his chance to live by it. His mind worked in a furious circle until he came upon a realization.

What can be given can be taken. 

“Teach me,” he said. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out the two wonderful arts for this fic!  
> https://red-hare-canvas.tumblr.com/post/622369480915468288/so-happy-to-have-participated-in-this-years


	2. 1- A Bird In The Hand

Yato slipped through the crowd like a shadow, ignoring his better judgment. Something beyond reason had drawn him here, to the Valley of Peace. It was the same something that propelled him beyond his fears of this place, the Jade Palace; a need, unlike anything he’d ever felt to  _ see  _ with his own eyes the person that would free him from his wretched fate: The Dragon Warrior. 

He’d come to the Valley of Peace to escape that fate, hoping that proximity to Master Tenjin might shield him from it. He hadn’t dared to visit the palace before today, however, fearing the Striking Six might somehow recognize him for what he was: a monster. 

The mood of the crowd would do more than enough to conceal his presence, though. Fear undercut the celebratory facade of the festival. Yato’s father, known to the people as ‘The Sorcerer’ was gaining power at a frightening pace. As one of the few Masters of Chi began to stir his ugly head, the entire nation was holding its breath in fear. 

Master Tenjin announced this festival in response to the terror blanketing the nation. He declared it time to select the Dragon Warrior, the fabled fighter who would defeat The Sorcerer and bring peace at last. 

Tenjin had called and the people had come, clapping and cheering. On the surface, it was a normal festival brimming with musicians, food stalls, and exhibitions, yet the anxiety of the crowd crawled against his skin and Yato mused that he once would have enjoyed it. His gaze slid over white-knuckle grips on barricade ropes and tight smiles. Whispers filled the space between cheers. 

Yato knew none of these people had a true grasp of what his father was capable of. None of them had ever been on the wrong side of his wrath. A single warrior capable of defeating his father sounded far too good to be true. A fantasy. Still, he couldn’t shake the hope that had taken root in his heart. Would today be the day he would meet his savior? Could he soon stop hiding and stand facing the sun at last?

As the drums started Yato’s head urged his frozen feet to flee, but he couldn’t. He had to see the Dragon Warrior with his own eyes. Six people flipped into the arena from the rooftops around them, landing in rigid attention. The screaming in Yato’s mind calmed and his focus narrowed onto the figures. 

Yato stood partially hidden behind a row of civilians as he carefully took in each of the Six. Only two looked like much, but Yato knew better than to judge people by their appearance. Nora was just a child and nearly his match, not to mention how  _ he  _ must look to the rest of the world. Torn and stained clothing; in desperate need of a good bath. Anyone looking to judge him on his appearance would assume he was just a bum looking for free food. No one would imagine he was the most dangerous person in the arena. 

Well, he wouldn’t _ turn down _ free food. 

Tenjin stepped onto the platform at the head of the arena and raised a single hand. The crowd hushed almost at once. 

“Crane,” Tenjin said, and though his voice was quiet it carried through the entire courtyard. A girl about Yato’s age with long brown hair pulled into a high ponytail and carrying a naginata stepped forward, bowing deeply to Tenjin. “Monkey.” A young blonde boy with a bo staff stepped forward and bowed low. The two walked side by side to the ring and bowed to one another once they were in position. 

Now that she was closer Yato saw a patchwork of scars blanketing the girls exposed arms, and he wondered what had happened to her, he couldn’t tell from here. 

A gong sounded and the spar began, both fighters falling into ready positions. Without hesitation, the two of them jumped into the fight, exchanging several rapid blows. The clashing of the wooden handles of their weapons was lost in the roar of the crowd, but a sympathetic echo clanged in Yato’s bones. 

He watched the dueling pair, making what observations he could. His father always said the way someone fought could tell you a lot about them. Monkey struck with a force backed by anger. Yato knew enough about that to recognize it in someone else. But Crane. She moved with mesmerizing grace, her movements flighty and light. If Yato didn’t know any better, he would say her feet weren’t even touching the ground. 

Monkey swung hard at Crane’s legs, but she leaped over his swing, flipping backward and landing in a crouch. Fascinated, Yato let his attention stray from Monkey, who he already understood painfully well, and instead focused on Crane. Though her face was serious it held a hint of her good-natured attitude. Feinting one way and striking the other, Monkey hit Crane so hard across the forehead her head snapped to the side and she stumbled back several steps. 

Crane recovered, spinning so fast that Yato almost missed the movement, as did Monkey.  _ She’s fast _ , Yato thought as Monkey jerked back suddenly, only  _ just  _ avoiding losing his head. She shrugged apologetically and Yato wrinkled his nose. Never in all the time he’d been training with Rabo had either apologized for a good attack. 

Crane dove low, driving her naginata in front of her, aiming for Monkey’s stomach. Monkey drove his staff into the ground and vaulted over Crane, using her back as a stepping stone to cross the distance. She hit the ground hard and rolled to her feet at once, dragging the end of her weapon through the dirt and slinging it into his face. Monkey reached up instinctively to cover his eyes and Crane swept his feet out from under him. His back hit the ground and Crane placed her blade at his neck. 

The gong sounded again, and Crane lowered her weapon, allowing Monkey to sit up sheepishly, still rubbing at his eyes. Crane helped him to his feet and handed him a handkerchief. Monkey took it gratefully and said something that Yato couldn’t hear but Crane threw her head back and laughed. 

“Mantis and Viper,” Tenjin announced. 

A man with brown hair and pin-straight posture stepped forward at the same time a woman with curly pink hair and a matching ruffly skirt flounced from her spot into the ring. The gong rang, and rather than bow to her opponent Viper bounded forward and planted a kiss on his cheek, grinning like a madwoman and squealing with laughter. A smattering of genuine giggling from the crowd broke through the tension in the air. Even Tenjin chuckled as Mantis shook his head and gave her a stern, though not unaffectionate, look. It seemed this was normal behavior for her. 

She retreated to her place and snapped open two bladed fans that hadn’t been there a moment ago, falling into a ready position. Though her face was still soft with delight her form was perfect and severe. It held all the threats she needed. Mantis drew two khanjars from sheaths at his hips and fell into a similar position. The two began to circle one another slowly and Yato rolled his eyes. He hated circling, it was tedious and made him dizzy, yet without fail some idiot would always think to make him walk in a circle around a viscera strewn battlefield waiting for him to show them an opening. He never did. 

Viper’s muscles coiled to strike, her skirts flouncing wildly as she lunged at Mantis then whirled away from his attack. She giggled wildly and Yato wondered what her deal was. Judging by the utter lack of reaction from her colleagues this was just how she was. Weird. 

She snapped her front fan shut and began swaying on the spot, eyes never leaving Mantis but also never losing their glimmer of laughter. Mantis eyed her carefully but was still caught a little off guard by her attack. He blocked the blades of her open fan, but the blunt end of the closed fan dug hard into his shoulder. Reeling back, Mantis swept up with his uninjured arm and knocked the open fan from her hand. It clattered to the ground outside the ring and the crowd cheered. Viper smiled sweetly as she swapped her remaining fan into her right hand. 

Now at a disadvantage, Viper’s fighting was no less impressive. She darted and coiled and ducked around attacks from both directions, blocking one strike with her body rather than a weapon. Blood dripped to the dirt from the resulting injury and an instant later Viper stomped hard on Mantis’s foot then slashed open the underside of his arm. The gong rang and the two separated, Mantis retrieving Viper’s fan and returning it to her. 

“Kazu, you’re so sweet!” She cried out, jumping forward and wrapping her arms and legs around him, showering kisses all over his face. The crowd laughed again. Even Mantis chuckled while he tried to pry her off himself. 

“Kofuku, do you  _ have  _ to kiss other men in front of your husband?” Another member of the Six boomed, striding forward and prising Kofuku off Mantis, though he didn’t look upset. 

“I can’t help it, Kazu is so  _ cuteee _ !” Viper trilled as her husband carried her back to the line by the scruff of her shirt. He dropped her unceremoniously on the ground beside him and she grinned with a mischievous look in her eye. 

Tigress broke her attention for the first time when Mantis returned to her side, covered in lipstick, and looking harried as he tried to wipe it off. She threw her head back and laughed loudly, offering him no help. Mantis shot her an annoyed look before returning to his rigid attention. Tigress did the same, though her attention was much more relaxed than his, and her face was much lighter. 

“Hey Mantis, that’s a really good look on you!” Someone in the crowd called to much laughter and mirth. 

_ These people are weird _ , Yato thought. 

A few of the Six glanced in the direction of the voice with small smiles, but Yato was distracted by the chill that had just run down his spine as the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Yato turned slowly towards Tenjin and felt his heart stop when he saw the wise brown eyes focused on him. Every muscle in Yato’s body tensed to make a run for it, but Tenjin’s eyes slid off him and across the rest of the crowd and the moment ended. He fairly sagged in relief when no alarm bells began to chime.

“Tigress and Boar,” Tenjin said, though his eyes now lingered with amusement on Mantis, who was still in attention and pretending that his entire face was not covered in kissy marks. 

The gong sounded and Yato turned back to face the ring, where the new pair was bowing deeply. When Tigress straightened, she grabbed the handle jutting out over her shoulder. The crowd oohed collectively when she drew the enormous blade that had been mostly concealed by her long blonde hair. He wondered how she wielded it at all, much less one-handed. Something deep and primal inside Yato told him that this woman was to be feared. He waited eagerly to see what weapon Boar would draw to counter, his spine crawling when Boar dropped into his fighting stance without drawing a weapon. 

“He can’t seriously be about to take her on empty-handed, can he?” Someone behind Yato said. 

_ She isn’t the only one to be feared _ , Yato thought. Fighting an armed opponent empty-handed required great skill and came with many risks. Up against an opponent like Tigress with such a heavy weapon he would have speed and agility to his advantage, but it also meant that any hit she landed on him would be much worse than any hit he landed on her. 

Tigress swung her sword horizontally at Boar’s midriff and he leaped it easily, spinning in the air and kicking her hard in the jaw. Her entire body jerked to the side with the force of it, and Yato noticed for the first time that there was a whip strapped to her hip. Yato quickly shoved away the harsh memories the weapon summoned and refocused on the fight. With a speed Yato would have thought impossible with a weapon that size Tigress struck again. He gaped in shock when Boar caught the blade with his bare hands. 

It wasn’t without a cost, however, the effort jarred him, and Tigress took advantage of that to kick him hard in the stomach. Boar skidded back several inches then used the momentum to leap into the air. Tigress dropped her sword and snatched the whip at her hip. It cracked in the air and once again Yato had to force down his raised hackles. She swung the whip high in the air, executing a level of control that Yato had never seen before. The whip wrapped around Boar’s midsection, pinning his arms to his side, and dragged him back to the ground. He hit the mat with a thud and rolled away to unwrap the whip, leaping back to his feet. 

Yato half expected Tigress to take her sword up again, but she kept her whip at the ready. She swung her arm around herself, becoming a whirlwind of leather and flashing metal as the pointed steel tip threatened to dice Boar if he got too close.  _ Who the hell puts a knife on the end of a whip? That’s insane. _

Yato’s eyes returned to Boar, who was watching the sharp tip of the whip, waiting for an opening. After a moment he leapt into the fray, making it past the barrier of flashing steel unscathed. He struck Tigress with the flat of his hand in the center of her chest, knocking her backward several feet. Tigress slid out of the ring and the gong sounded. Yato made a dissatisfied sound, thinking he might have gotten to see something interesting if the fight had continued as the two bowed to each other once more and returned to their spots in line. 

Tenjin raised a hand and the crowd fell silent. 

“I can sense the Dragon Warrior is among us.” 

The Six hurried forward so their line was at the foot of Tenjin’s podium, not five feet from where Yato stood now. Tenjin surveyed the crowd as he descended the platform stairs and Yato shied away, suddenly terrified that Tenjin would see him again and recognize him. A memory of blood and smoke temporarily overwhelmed his senses before Tenjin turned his gaze back to the Six and Yato breathed a sigh of relief. 

His heart raced as he leaned forward, unconsciously pressing past the people in front of him, desperate now to see the person who would defeat his father. Yato’s mind faintly registered sounds of indignation and faint snickering from behind him before a foot was planted hard in the center of his back and sent him careening forward. The worn strap of his sandal broke and sent him crashing face down in the hard-packed dirt, his nose crunching painfully. Spiteful laughter rang out and he swore,  _ always gotta pick on the village beggar, huh? _ He was already homeless; couldn’t people just leave him in peace? 

“ _ Fuck _ .” 

Blood began flowing freely from his nose as he sat up, attempting to pinch it closed, grimacing. He was busy muttering threats under his breath when he looked up to see a wrinkled finger pointing directly into his face. 

“What the hell are  _ you  _ pointing at?” He snapped, then blanched when his eyes followed the line of the finger up an arm, then to the face of Tenjin. “ _ Oh _ .” Cold fear washed down his spine. The  _ one  _ person here who could potentially identify him was gazing down at him with a strange expression that Yato couldn’t quite place. 

“I am  _ so  _ sorry,” he said, raising both hands, forgetting about his bleeding nose in his panic. No weapons were drawn yet so that was a good sign, but he needed to get out of here before anyone noticed his complete lack of chi.  _ That  _ would be memorable. “I-I was just… someone pushed me. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean- it was an accident.”

“Interesting,” Tenjin said, still wearing that unreadable expression. Yato lowered his eyes, aware that they, if anything, were what would trigger Tenjin’s memory. 

“I know it’s a bad excuse, I’m so sorry,” he repeated. Blood from his nose was dripping onto his chest now, and he could only hope that looking like a hopeless idiot would be a sufficient cover. 

“Are you alright?” Crane asked, reaching forward like she wanted to help him, but she flinched back when Yato jerked away from her. 

“Master, were you pointing at me?” Bishamon asked, stepping forward slightly. She was standing directly behind him. Yato’s head jerked around to look at her, then jerked back just as fast, afraid she might look at him and see the sins etched into his soul. Hoping to make a silent exit, Yato began edging back toward the crowd. 

“No, him,” Tenjin answered, finger still pointing at Yato. Yato’s eyes widened and he scrambled backward. Tenjin’s finger followed him. “ _ He _ is to be the Dragon Warrior.” 

“Master, are you sure?” Asked the woman at his side. Yato briefly noted her long dark hair and the strange tattoo on her forehead. Tenjin nodded. 

“There are no accidents,” he said sagely, still keenly observing Yato.

This was a joke. It  _ had  _ to be some sort of joke, right? They had noticed his lack of presence and seen the killer in his eyes and decided to play a nasty trick before killing him. He glanced at the Six and saw them exchanging doubtful glances. 

“But Master,” Tigress began, “you can’t make this man the Dragon Warrior, he’s just a slob!” 

Yato flinched away but his mouth moved without his permission. “I’m homeless, not a slob, I  _ would  _ bathe if I could!”

“You can,” Tenjin said, face shifting from that expression terrifyingly like recognition into something warmer, “as the Dragon Warrior, you will live in the Jade Palace and have access to all our facilities. We’ll have a bath drawn for you at once.” 

As tempting as the offer was Yato knew he couldn’t take him up on it. Every second he was here he was in more danger of being recognized and of his father getting wind of this and sending a team Yato’s way. 

Yato did a quick survey of his surroundings, looking for his best exit point. He may be able to run across the heads of the crowd and vault the wall before the Striking Six even knew what hit them, but he didn’t know what was on the other side. If there was cover he could disappear and his lack of presence would cloak him, but if there wasn’t he would be exposed. Not to mention that would attract attention; they might be inclined to chase him down if he showed that much potential, and then he would be running from more than just his father. It seemed his best strategy would be to use the idiot cover that he had literally fallen into. 

Well, to be fair, he’d been pushed. 

“Sorry, but fighting scares me, I only came for the free meal. This is some kind of a joke, right?” 

“This is no kind of joke, child. There are no accidents. You are the Dragon Warrior.” 

“Don’t I get any say in it?” Yato asked. These were supposed to be the good guys, right? They should be all about rights, right?

“Nope,” Tenjin replied. 

“ _ What _ ?” Yato exclaimed. 

Tenjin gestured to the palanquin bearers who rushed forward and manhandled him onto their platform. Having already backed himself into the weakling corner, he had no choice but to let them, though he had to struggle against the instinct to snap their necks and run for it. He cast a pleading look to the Striking Six, whose faces ranged from curious to furious. It seemed he wouldn’t be getting any help from them. Just as well, he could escape after his bath. 

________________________________________

Yato realized that the name “The Jade Palace” was literal when the palanquin bearers dumped him unceremoniously on a green stone floor, surrounded by green stone walls, and a green stone ceiling held up by green stone pillars. Yato gaped, partially in awe, partially disgusted by the opulence, partially wondering if they’d used every last bit of jade that existed in the world to make this hall. Seemed a bit greedy to him. 

“You learn something new every day,” he muttered. 

Yato froze halfway to his feet when he realized where he was. This was the Hall of Legendary Warriors, a shrine to the heroes who lost their lives battling the dark. Battling people like him. Overcome by the irrational fear of being burned, Yato tumbled onto his butt and scrambled backward, a roach scurrying away from the light. 

His panicked eyes landed on a long emerald inlaid sword and his breath caught. He recognized it from the legends: the Sword of Master Ocelot. She had fought off an entire army single-handedly with it. Yato looked down then back up, the need to see overwhelming him. Still, the fear that the light in this room might illuminate the blood staining his hands lingered. 

But maybe the Six wouldn’t notice, considering how much of his  _ own  _ blood he was covered in already. His nose had only  _ just  _ stopped bleeding, and he was actually a little lightheaded. He didn’t bother to wipe any of the dried blood away, it might help sell his helpless idiot cover. 

Yato climbed slowly to his feet, every second he wasn’t burned to a crisp emboldening him to explore. He walked hesitantly through the Hall of Legendary Heros, taking in the armor of Master Rhino, the Jar of Five Thousand Souls, the Shield of Master Dolphin, and all the other things that had been used to destroy people like him. Master Rhino’s armor beckoned for him to get a closer look at the way it was put together when something in the corner of his eye made him choke. The nunchucks of Master Porcupine. 

Guilt blossomed inside Yato’s chest as the image of Master Porcupine drowning in his own blood at Yato’s feet filled his mind. He had died in the Forest of Despair, alone, with hate in his eyes. Yato had felt nothing that day, but  _ this  _ day he hugged himself around the middle and shrank back from the display, feeling suddenly like every inch of the hall was covered in judgmental eyes that could see every sin he’d ever committed. 

The door slammed open and Yato fairly shrieked in surprise, leaping away instinctively. His back slammed into Master Rhino’s armor and he spun around, watching in alarm as it teetered dangerously on its stand before losing balance and toppling over on top of him. He groaned as the horn spike jabbed him in the kidney. 

“What an idiot,” Tigress growled. 

“Sorry,” Yato groaned, not turning to face them. 

His heart was pounding again. It was the moment of truth. If the Six were going to recognize him as a murderer, it would be now, when they were away from the screaming crowds. He cast the shrine to Porcupine a wry look. Perhaps if he were to be slain it was fitting to be slain at the foot of that shrine. The soft sound of feet approaching choked his breath off. 

Crane stepped in front of him and bowed politely while he was still underneath the armor. 

“There’s no need to be scared,” she said when he shrank away from her. “My name is Hiyori, though you may know me as Master Crane?” Yato nodded mutely, struggling to push himself up under the weight of the Rhino armor. What was it  _ made  _ of, solid stone? “What’s your name?” she asked. 

There was a long silence that she endured with a polite and patient smile. Weird that her politeness didn’t extend to helping him out from under this ten-ton armor. He might have been more inclined to appreciate how distractingly cute she was if he couldn’t feel himself bruising. 

“Yato. I’m Yato,” he said eventually. 

“Well, Yato, can I introduce you to my friends?” Yato gritted his teeth and nodded, turning his eyes at last to the rest of the group. He took it as a good sign that none of them leapt forward to kill him. “The tall one is Daikoku, and the one with the pink hair is his wife Kofuku.” They both lifted hands in friendly greeting. Yato bowed his head as much as he could, propped up on his elbows as he was. “Tigress is named Bishamon, Master Mantis is Kazuma, which leaves Yukine.” 

She pointed to the little blonde boy in the middle who looked incredibly annoyed. Yato sketched another shallow bow, wondering just how long they were going to allow him to be squashed under this armor. 

“Hi,” He said, making another pointed attempt to free himself from the armor. A few pieces shifted, clanking against one another, but he still found himself unable to move. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Here, let me help you,” Hiyori said, reaching forward and pushing the enormous chest plate off his back then pulling Yato to his feet. 

“What the hell was that made out of? It was so heavy.” Bishamon rolled her eyes. “You said earlier that I didn’t need to be afraid, does that mean I can leave?” Hiyori’s smile stiffened and she glanced over at Tenjin. 

“I’m afraid not,” Tenjin said. “Fate has brought you to us for a reason, and we must find the reason before it’s too late.” Yato shied away from his surveying gaze, feeling like Tenjin was looking right through him.

“Whatever,” Bishamon scoffed, “I say we test his skills right now to see if he’s really worth our time.”

_ I don’t like the sound of that. _

Bishamon snatched her whip and swung it in Yato’s direction. He tensed for a fight, forgetting himself briefly. Hiyori appeared in front of him, lightning-fast. She reached out and the whip wrapped around her wrist, blood welling up underneath the pointed tip. Yato once again saw the scars that covered her arms, and now that he was closer he could tell they were from some sort of animal bite, she must have been mauled to get that many, but his attention strayed back to her face and the rage that burned there. 

“How dare you attack an unarmed man?” Hiyori ripped the whip from Bishamon’s hand and threw it to the side like it was garbage. There was a long tense silence where Hiyori glared until Bishamon bowed her head, looking regretful. 

“I apologize.” Yato started when he realized she was speaking to him, not Hiyori. 

“Um… no problem,” Yato replied. The woman with the marking on her forehead stepped forward, bowing respectfully.

“My name is Tsuyu, I’m the manager here at the Jade Palace, please allow me to show you to the baths and your room.” 

“Yes  _ please _ ,” Yato sighed, unable to help himself. All his nose blood was starting to dry and itch. Tsuyu’s lips twitched upwards slightly. She turned to leave and Yato followed, smiling shyly at Hiyori and giving the rest of the Striking Six a wide berth, not wanting any of them to get the same idea as Bishamon. 

________________________________________

Yato reclined in the bath, sighing happily. It’d been months since he’d had a hot bath, and over a week since he’d had one at all. Even though he was going to have to vacate this village and go to ground to evade Father, this was worth it. He’d have liked to use his hygiene as an opportunity to find employment, no one wanted to hire someone who stank, but it couldn’t be helped. Father would definitely find out about this sooner or later and Yato wanted to be long gone when he did. Maybe he’d head south and hope for warmer weather. Maybe he’d head towards the sea and become a pirate. 

Yato slipped his head underwater and popped back up, feeling refreshed. He couldn't identify the scent of the soap they’d given him, but it was nice. Maybe he would steal some when he left. They wouldn’t miss it, and it would do him a lot of good in the future.

________________________________________

“He’s going to make a run for it tonight,” Kazuma said as soon as the door closed. 

“Really?” Bishamon asked sardonically, “I figure he’s going to hang around and mooch off us for as long as he can. It’s not like he has a home to go back to.” 

“Were you not paying attention at all?”

“I saw it too,” Kofuku interjected. “He looked like a caged animal when the palanquin bearers surrounded him. I thought he was going to kill them.”

“As did I, and I saw it again when Viina tried to attack him, something almost  _ feral  _ in his eyes. Not to mention he has no presence. At all.”

“Sure, the lack of aura is weird, but were you two lookin’ at the same guy as me? From where I was standing, he just looked scared,” Yukine put in.

“Sure, he was afraid, but there was something else there too,” Kofuku said darkly. “Something scary.” 

________________________________________

“Did you enjoy your bath?” Tsuyu asked when Yato stepped out of the bathroom in clean clothes, cloaked in sweet-smelling steam. 

_ Was she waiting out here for me? _ He probably should have known; he would keep someone who seemed as eager to leave as himself under close watch as well. 

“Yeah, I did. Thanks a lot for the clean clothes.” Tsuyu nodded. 

“You’re one of us now, like it or not. Whatever you need will be provided.” 

“Except for an in and out pass though, right?” Tsuyu nodded. 

Despite the invisible bars surrounding him, he was almost sorry to be leaving tonight, he certainly would have been happy to enjoy the luxury under better circumstances, and it’s not like invisible bars were new to him anyway. 

“Dinner will be ready shortly, until then I will escort you to your room so you can get settled in.” 

_ What, because I have so much to unpack? _

________________________________________

Yato stepped into his room and bowed politely to Tsuyu, thanking her again before closing the door behind himself. He might not be planning to stay much longer, but he should still be courteous while he was here. After all, he  _ had  _ nearly killed their palanquin bearers, even if they hadn’t realized it. 

Yato took a moment to inspect his room closely. There was a closet with a futon and room for belongings on one side of the room, and a window on the exterior wall, which served as his only exit other than the door he had just come through. He opened the window and was momentarily awestruck by the beauty of the sprawling gardens that met his gaze. They looked like they could be used for both relaxing and training, and from this vantage point, he could see a few private places tucked away that he could easily see himself ducking into with Rabo when they should have been training. 

The gardens, though vast, were likely patrolled at night. He’d have to plan his escape around them, and with just the one night to plan that wouldn’t be easy. Still, he’d gotten himself out of worse situations before. Maybe. He was on the third floor of the palace, and the rooms on either side of him were filled. Not to mention his window would face the rising moon, so any rooftop escape would cast a shadow across the windows of his captors until too late into the night to give him a decent head start before sunrise. Yato wondered if the inconvenient placing of his room was an intentional measure to keep him where he was or if it was just chance. 

It seemed his only option was to drop to the ground from this floor and sneak through the gardens until he reached the wall, which he could then jump over and make a break for it. At least the gardens had decent cover. There was plenty to duck under, and the patch of tall bamboo would cast enough shadow that he wouldn’t have to worry about his own shadow giving away his movements. Yato leaned forward, resting his elbows on the windowsill, and began committing every nook and cranny of the garden to memory. 

“Planning your escape?”

Yato jumped so hard his head slammed into the windowsill. He turned watering eyes to see Kofuku leaning comfortably against the doorframe, unopened fan resting against her lips. Yato narrowed his eyes at it. A threat? How the  _ hell  _ did she open the door and lean there without him noticing anyway? He rubbed the knot on top of his head sheepishly, trying to keep up his idiot persona. 

“What gives you that idea? This place is great, free food and baths, I’m sold,” he said, trying to sound good-natured and honest. She ‘hmm’d, looking unconvinced, and took a few steps into his room. Yato’s eyes returned to her fan. 

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not looking for revenge over the Dragon Warrior title if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“So why  _ are  _ you here?” 

“Just getting to know my new neighbor while I can, since you’ll be leaving tonight, or  _ trying  _ to anyway.” She indicated the wall with the closet door. “Dai and I sleep over there.” 

“How long have the two of you been married?”

“Ten years,” she said, smiling. 

“That’s quite a while.” Kofuku nodded happily. 

“Want to know how  _ I  _ would escape if I were you?” He opened his mouth to decline her offer, but she didn’t seem to care what he had to say. “I’m going to tell you anyway.” 

“Okay…”

“I’d jump off the balcony into those bushes first, they’re springy and would cushion your landing. The bamboo thicket casts a shadow that reaches all the way to the building when the night is still young, so you could follow that all the way to the thicket and slip right in. From there you could creep through the bamboo almost all the way to the wall then jump right over.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” Kofuku shrugged. 

“Just making conversation. It seems like your area of interest.” She winked. “What about you? For argument’s sake, how would you do it?” She didn’t really expect him to tell her his  _ real  _ plan, right?

“I’d wait until the moon was high and run across the roof to bypass all the extra work in the garden, then jump over the wall at the edge of the building.” 

“That doesn’t leave much time before sunrise to put distance between the palace and yourself.”

“Maybe I run really fast.” 

“Then why didn’t you run at the tournament when you had an opening?”

“It was all part of my evil plot to get a bath and clean clothes.” 

Kofuku giggled. “You smell much better now; will you be taking some of our soap with you when you leave?” 

“Absolutely. I’m surprised you haven’t smelled it already; my sleeves are completely stuffed with it.” He chuckled along with her. The door slid open behind them and they turned to see Daikoku standing there, looking peeved.

“You flirting with my wife?” He growled, advancing threateningly. Yato remembered how Daikoku had stopped Bishamon’s sword with his bare hands and backed away in fear. 

“No! No, I’m not! We were just talking!” Yato raised his hands in surrender. 

“Dai! Don’t be mean, I was just making a new friend!” Daikoku glanced at his wife, then relaxed. 

“You remember that she’s taken, you got that?”

“I got it!” Yato replied quickly. Daikoku glared at him for one more long moment before speaking again. 

“You got anyone special, kid?” 

“Do I look like someone with someone? And I’m hardly a kid,” Yato dodged. 

“Yer a kid.”

Hiyori passed by the open door, then backed up when she realized he wasn’t alone. She stepped through the open door. “I didn’t expect anyone to be in here,” she said. “I hope they’re treating you well.” She gave the other two a warning look. 

“Daikoku is scary,” Yato said honestly, “he tried to beat me up for making friends with Kofuku.” 

Hiyori giggled. “He does that sometimes.” They smiled at each other, and Daikoku and Kofuku exchanged a meaningful look. Yato ignored them. 

Kofuku let out a high-pitched giggle. “We’ll leave you alone. Good luck with the roof plan, Yato!”

“Thanks,” he said dryly. Hiyori quirked an eyebrow at him and he shrugged. 

“Are you liking it here?”

“I like baths and clean clothes.” 

Her brow furrowed slightly. “Can I ask… how did you end up on the street?” 

“Couldn’t get a job because I couldn’t afford a bath, couldn’t afford a bath because I couldn’t get a job. It’s a vicious cycle.”

“I’m sorry.” 

Yato shrugged again. He didn’t tell her that he was planning to use their soap to get a job and end the cycle, for however as long as he could hide from Father for. 

“I’m just glad to have a roof to sleep under now.” 

“Right,” she said slowly, clearly disbelieving. 

_ Do all of them know I’m running? _ It would make it a lot harder to escape if they were all on alert.

“So, what’s for dinner?” Yato asked. 

“I’m not sure, Yukine is cooking though.” She shuddered and he recoiled, wondering how bad of a cook Yukine must be for her to react like that. “It shouldn’t be long now. Why don’t we head down early together, and I can show you around the palace a little?”

Yato nodded eagerly, not only because it would give him an opportunity to scope out more escape routes but because he liked Hiyori and wanted to spend a bit more time with her before he left this place for good. If everything went well, he would never see her again. 

“Lead the way then.” 

________________________________________

“And the gardens are this way, I’ll give you a tour of those some other time, they’re really amazing. Our groundskeeper is a master of his craft. Through there is the Hall of Heroes, you’ve already seen that, and through here is our training area, it’s amazing.”

“I should hope so, that’s kinda the whole reason this place exists.” She shot him an amused look, then opened the door. 

Yato was barely able to control his reaction. Put simply, this place looked like heaven on earth to him. Already he was imagining all the fun he’d have playing in this room with Rabo and Nora. Nora would  _ love  _ the legion of wooden warriors, each with spinning sections that moved independently of each other, all of them spiked for Maximum Damage. She was all about actions and reactions, and using an opponent's strengths against them, especially because she was so small. 

Yato already knew first-hand how much Rabo would love the jade tortoise, hollow in the middle and laying on its back like a giant bowl. He suppressed a grimace as he recalled all the times Rabo had gleefully tossed Yato around in theirs at home, laughing as Yato bounced and rolled around helplessly. 

“Whoa,” Yato said, hoping that none of his daydreams showed on his face. “This stuff looks crazy, where’s the beginner’s section?” 

“We do train children, but all that equipment is sized for, well, children. We’ll be teaching you ourselves between our classes. We do have that, though, we use it to prop the door open when it’s hot.” She pointed to a large bounce back dummy. Yato bit back his snort. 

“I see,” Yato said in a mysterious voice, “so he will be my adversary. My biggest rival in the days to come!” Hiyori laughed again and grinned. Yato grinned back, feeling his face warm under her glowing pink gaze and her even warmer laughter. 

“You don’t have to use it, Yato. The Six and I can teach you just fine without you having to look silly with that thing.” 

“I’ll bet you are a great teacher, but I don’t wanna be within fifty feet of Daikoku or Bishamon ever again. Although I’d love to get that high strung one, Mantis, drunk sometime.” 

“You and me both,” she said conspiratorially, lowering her voice and leaning closer. “I’ve never seen him lose his composure, and I’ve known him for a  _ long  _ time. Maybe you’ll succeed where I’ve failed.” 

“If I do, I’ll be sure to sketch out the scene to immortalize it for you.” 

“It’s a deal.” 

Yato had an idea and sprang forward to his adversary, raising his fists comically. “So how do I fight this guy? He looks like a sumo wrestler to me!” 

He crouched down and kicked his leg high, stomping down hard, face set in a ridiculous serious expression. Hiyori roared with laughter when Yato threw himself at the dummy, shouting a mock war cry, feet slipping against the tatami as he tried to push it back. 

“Yato!” She laughed, “don’t hurt yourself goofing off!” 

Yato plopped to the ground, defeated, and grinned sheepishly at Hiyori. 

“Guess I’m not good enough to beat him up yet. Maybe I’ll come back to it in a few months.” 

He almost felt a twinge of guilt for all the different lies contained in that sentence, despite the fact that she was holding him hostage. Perhaps it was because sitting at her feet and pretending to be a normal felt oddly soothing. At this moment, the voices that hissed foul things in his ear were quiet enough that he could hear the whisper of a peaceful life in the air between them. If only he stayed there might be something to that, at least until his father came for him, and his father would always come. 

“Master Dragon, I see that you were with Master Crane. I was concerned you’d gotten lost.” Yato and Hiyori turned to see Tsuyu standing in the door, looking pensive. The window between them snapped shut with her intrusion and Yato was left feeling suddenly and acutely alone. Again. 

“Sorry. Hiyori offered to show me around a little before dinner.” 

“I see. Well then Hiyori can escort you to the dining room, dinner is ready.” 

Yato climbed to his feet and walked side by side with Hiyori to the dining room, where the rest of the Six were already waiting. 

“And here I was thinking he’d already run off,” Bishamon said snidely. “So glad you’ve decided to grace us with your presence.” 

“You’re welcome,” Yato said nastily. 

Kazuma gave Bishamon a warning look and turned to Yato as Yukine passed out their food. Yato bit back a grimace at the burned rice.  _ You can’t have it all, I guess. _

“It looks like you’re going to be here for a while, Yato, tell us about yourself,” Kazuma said. 

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re excused.”

“I meant, could you repeat that?”

“No.”

“Is that a new no, or the same one from before?” Yukine asked, sounding amused. 

“I’d tell you, but I’d hate to take the mystery out of it.” 

“Why don’t you want to tell us?” Kofuku asked, eyeing him curiously. 

“I don’t know you people, you’re holding me hostage, and I don’t like you,” Yato ticked off the reasons on his fingers. 

“Those are good reasons,” Hiyori started, trying to catch his eye. Yato avoided her gaze. “None of us are happy with this situation, Yato, but we’d like to make the best of it and get to know you.”

“My name is Yato, I like long walks on the beach, a good book on a rainy day, and not being held against my will,” he snapped before picking up his bowl and shoveling the barely edible food into his mouth so fast he couldn’t be expected to answer any more questions. 

________________________________________

Yato slipped out of his cot as soon as he heard Hiyori settle in for the night. Apparently, she was his other neighbor, and if he were going to stay that might have made for a terrible distraction. 

On his way back from dinner he’d tried to scope out an escape route through the halls of the Jade Palace, thinking that if Kofuku was expecting him to jump out the window perhaps sneaking through the halls was his best bet. He’d given up on the idea once he’d realized how big and sprawling the palace was, however. It was a maze of hallways and dead ends, and maybe even secret passageways. As exciting as that thought was, he wasn’t sticking around to look for them, and he knew he’d never make it out of the building on his own. The window was his best bet, whether Kofuku was expecting it or not. 

Yato climbed out of his window onto the roof and crouched low, taking a long moment to observe his surroundings. The patrol wasn’t on this side of the palace, so he’d have to wait for them to pass by twice to know how long their rounds took. He glanced over his shoulder into his darkened room one last time before sliding the window quietly shut and laying on his belly, waiting. Every second was agony, but he couldn’t risk jumping into the bushes only to have to guards turn the corner and catch him red-handed. 

Two minutes later the first patrol passed by, carrying torches and walking slowly. It took a full minute for them to turn the corner on the other side of the building and pass out of sight. Ten more minutes passed before they returned. Yato waited an additional minute to be sure they were out of earshot before he raised himself slowly into a crouch and eased onto the edge of the roof, mindful of where his shadow was being cast. He pushed himself off the roof all at once and crashed into the bushes, making far more noise than he was comfortable with. For thirty seconds he remained immobile, listening for the guards or other signs of alarm. When none came, he rolled onto the ground. 

The earth around him sprang up and dragged him into the air, shouting in alarm, swaying violently. He cursed, kicking and struggling against the net that held him to no avail. Cruel laughter drifted from the roof. Moments later a dark figure fell through the air and landed in a crouch before him. Bishamon got to her feet, looking very amused and grinning smugly at him. 

“I can’t believe the net trap actually worked. He really did follow your plan, Kofuku.” 

_ So, it  _ was  _ a trap then. _

“I  _ told  _ you Bisha,” Kofuku chirped, melting from the shadows nearby and smiling brightly at Yato. 

“For the record,” Yato interjected, “I was going to do my own thing after this step.” 

“And what was that?” Kazuma asked. Yato turned in his net to see Kazuma leaning casually against a pillar. Yato remained silent. “Keeping the secret in case you want to use it again?”

“I’m disappointed, Yato. I was hoping you’d decided to give us a chance.” 

“Come on, Hiyori, you’re holding me prisoner.”

“You could be at home here.” 

“I have no home and I never will,” he replied through gritted teeth. 

“Oh, mister tough guy is _ so mysterious _ ,” Daikoku growled. “Look, kiddo, you’ve been chosen to save the world whether you like it or not. You can brood and act ambivalent all you want, but you still ain’t leaving here until we say so.” 

“How home-y,” Yato mocked. His net twisted slightly in the wind, turning him to better face Kazuma, and Yukine, who was sitting on the edge of the roof above him, legs swinging. 

“I say we let him leave,” Yukine chimed in. “If he doesn’t want to be here, how can we trust him to have our backs in a fight?” Yato tried to gauge the reactions of the others, but it was too dark. 

“So, what should we do with him?” Bishamon asked.

“Take him to Master Tenjin,” Kazuma said, “let him decide. He’s the one who decided to hold him against his will anyway.” The others agreed, so Kazuma whipped out his knives and sliced the rope that held Yato suspended, sending him crashing to the ground.

Yato tried to scramble out of the net and make a run for it, even though he didn’t think it would work. Daikoku easily lifted him by the collar of his shirt like he’d done to Kofuku earlier in the day, then slung him over his back. 

“Hey, put me down!” Yato demanded. “You can’t do this, I have rights! You can’t just hold me, prisoner!”

“Quiet down,” Bishamon snapped. “It’s not going to work.” 

Yato ignored her and continued to kick and fight, but he was nowhere close to matching Daikoku’s brute strength. He knew it was hopeless, but he also couldn’t just let himself be taken to and fro without a fight. 

Five minutes later he was dumped unceremoniously onto the ground at Tenjin’s feet. He swore loudly and tried to push himself back up, but Daikoku planted a foot in the center of his back and Yato was stuck. 

“He tried to escape, just like Kazuma and Kofuku said he would.” 

“Wow, your unlawful prisoner doesn’t want to be here, what a surprise,” Yato snapped. 

“Shut it, kid,” Daikoku replied. 

Yato wanted very badly to say that he was far from a kid, that he’d killed more people than Daikoku had ever met, and that he would be  _ happy  _ to demonstrate; but the weight of his helplessness, which was shaped oddly like a foot, kept his tongue in check. 

“I thought this might happen,” Tenjin said, surveying Yato with that expression that made his hackles rise with alarm. “Take him back to his room and keep him under guard until morning.” 

“Seriously?” Yukine snapped, “you’ve got six able and willing warriors standing in front of you to choose from and you still insist on using this idiot who can’t fight, and who will probably keep trying to escape? Are you crazy?”

“Yukine,” Hiyori scolded, “show some respect. Don’t talk to your master like that.” Yukine scoffed. 

“I agree with Yukine,” Bishamon said, “why do you keep insisting on using this random dude who doesn’t know up from down? I thought you said the situation with The Sorcerer was serious! Why can’t you stop wasting time with this idiot?”

“I do not believe I am wasting my time. Perhaps young Yato has some hidden talent that we don’t know about,” he gave Yato another deep look that had Yato’s entire body screaming  _ he knows! Run! Run! _ Yato tried to force his breathing steady. 

“He fell into the ring by fate,” Tenjin continued, “there are no accidents. I believe he has something to offer.” 

“Actually, I didn’t even fall, I was pushed,” Yato said, trying to cover up his fear. 

Daikoku pressed his foot a little harder into Yato’s back, severely limiting his breathing. Yato coughed in protest as his shortened breath allowed his heart rate to pick back up. 

“Master, how are we any better than the Sorcerer if we’re holding people against their will?” Hiyori reasoned. Yato sent up a silent prayer of thanks for her. Maybe he’d get out of this after all. 

“Not to mention, if he doesn’t want to fight, he’ll never reach his full potential,” Kazuma put in. Once again Yato thanked whatever gods of reason that existed. 

“That’s enough,” Tenjin snapped, cutting Yato’s relief away. “The Universe has spoken, and I would thank all of you to listen. The boy stays.” 

_ I’m a man _ , Yato thought bitterly, though he couldn’t quite get the words out around his racing heart and the foot on his back. There was a short-dissatisfied silence before the pressure on Yato’s back lifted and Daikoku slung him back over his shoulder. 

“The missus and I will watch him tonight,” Daikoku volunteered, sounding resigned. “And if you give us any trouble, I’ll be tying you up.” 

“That’s pretty kinky,” Yato said weakly. “I didn’t think you two would be into that sort of thing, but I’m game.” Even to his own ears, his quip sounded terrified. That didn’t stop Daikoku from hitting Yato’s head on a door frame, though. 

“Keep the wisecracks to yerself, I’m not in the mood for any sass from you.” Yato gulped. 

“How long will we be bunking together?”  _ How long till I can try to escape again? _

“Until further notice.” 

_ Until further notice.  _

Yato felt the anxiety that had been slowly rising in his chest begin to overwhelm him. Until further notice meant that he wouldn’t have  _ any  _ opportunities to escape, and if he couldn’t escape, he’d be a sitting duck when his father sent his forces after Yato. He would be dragged back to that hell. He couldn’t go back there. He  _ couldn’t _ , not to the cold and the tension and the killing. He wasn’t ready. His chest tightened and he started struggling again, attempting to pry Daikoku’s fingers off him. 

“You have to let me go! I  _ have  _ to get out of here,  _ please _ ,” Yato begged, his voice pitched with fear. “I can’t stay here! I have to leave, please,  _ please  _ let me go! Just tell Tenjin I got away and you can all go back to your normal lives!”

“Yato, what’s the matter? Why are you so desperate to get away from here? We’re not going to hurt you,” Hiyori said, getting as close as she could without getting struck by Yato’s wild struggling. 

Father’s smooth and heavy voice filled Yato’s mind, washing over him and weighing down his heart with words like shackles. He was being passed from one prison to the other, back and forth, like an unwanted toy. Yato didn’t want to go back to Father’s deadly smile and easy cruelty, nor his words that said more than they said. And he was so  _ tired  _ of killing. Screaming had stopped sounding like music to him long ago. 

“ _ Release me _ !” Yato shrieked, trying frantically to escape as Father’s voice became louder in his mind. He started clawing at every part of Daikoku that he could reach. “ _ Help _ !” 

Yato’s eyes burned as he screamed and fought, tears spilling down his cheeks. 

“What the hell is the matter with him?” Daikoku growled as Yato continued to struggle, losing more coherency with every passing second. 

Daikoku held Yato out and away from himself, wincing as Yato’s fingernails dug into the skin of his arms. He shook Yato roughly, and Yato fixed wide, tear-filled, and terrified eyes on his face. His whole body trembled. 

“We’re six of the best in the country, kid, you may as well give it up,” Daikoku said quietly, wary of worsening Yato’s condition. 

Weirdly enough these words pierced through the haze of fear in Yato’s mind. Daikoku was right, he was surrounded by six of the  _ best  _ fighters in the world. Not to mention Tenjin, who even Father was a little afraid of. He had time, he realized. If Father were going to try to take Yato here he would want to mount a proper attack, and that would take preparation. 

A few more tears spilled from his eyes, a last weak sob shook his body, and Yato took several deep, halting breaths. He gripped Daikoku’s wrist for traction, knowing there was no point pretending he wasn’t still trembling. Once he stopped fighting Daikoku slung him back over his back and carried Yato back to his room. 

Yato finally got his heart rate back under control as Daikoku slid open the door to his room and dropped Yato onto his cot. Kofuku closed the door behind them, looking half concerned half wary. 

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way. You can behave yourself and go to sleep, or I can tie you up and go to sleep myself,” Daikoku said. Yato gulped, repeating his recent realization over and over to himself to stay calm. 

_ You have time. You have time. You have time. _

“Alright,” Yato said, voice still wobbly. “I’ll be good.” 

Daikoku gave him a suspicious look, then strode across the room to sit beside the window, arms crossed. Kofuku took up station by the door. Yato looked between the two of them, then dragged his futon across the room and laid it out so he could sleep with his back against the wall, facing the two of them. 

Yato slid under the cover, then pulled it over his eyes and reminded himself that he was safe, at least for now. Father couldn’t act right away when he got the news. He still had time. 

Yato closed his eyes and did not sleep peacefully. 

  
  



	3. 2- Sticks and Stones

Yato bolted upright, panting and covered in cold sweat. He clenched his fists around his blanket, then screamed when a voice asked if he was okay. 

“What the hell?” He shouted, vaulting himself along the wall and into the corner before he remembered where he was. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Kofuku said. “You really  _ do  _ move fast.” 

“The threat of death helps!” Yato snapped, trying to even out his breathing. 

With these two scaring the shit out of him on top of his bad dreams it was already shaping up to be a really shitty day, and the sun wasn’t even up yet. 

“Were you having a nightmare?” Daikoku asked, looking concerned. 

“Something like that,” Yato replied, prying himself out of the corner and edging back to his futon, not quite at ease enough to expose his back. 

“Do you…” Kofuku ventured. 

“No,” Yato snapped, flopping down and pulling the blanket over his head.

“You don’t have to try so hard to be mysterious, kid. We already have plenty of questions about you.”

“Like how you don’t have an aura, which is impossible,” Kofuku said. 

“I’m not trying to be mysterious; I’m just trying to keep you people out of my business. You’re not my friends.” 

“I thought we were friends,” Kofuku added. 

“Friends don’t hold friends captive.”

“That’s not your opinion on Hiyori,” Daikoku teased. Yato scoffed. 

“That’s my opinion on all of you.”

“You were so taken with her I thought you might decide to stay,” Kofuku said, ignoring his proclamation.

“Why are you guys so annoying?”

“We’re just making conversation, kid.”

“I’m not a kid! I’m a grown man!”

“With a crush and nightmares,” Daikoku replied. 

“Everyone gets those!”

“So, you don’t deny that you have a crush on Hiyori?” Kofuku trilled. Yato screamed into his pillow. 

“Why are you acting like twelve-year-olds? Go pester Yukine.” 

The door slid open and Yato peered out from under his blanket to see who had come to harass him this time. He retreated further into his nest when he caught sight of Hiyori standing in his doorway, hair still mussed from sleep. She looked  _ cute _ . 

“Is everything alright in here? I thought I heard a scream.”

“Sorry, Hiyori,” Yato said from under his blankets, “Daikoku and Kofuku are picking on me.” Her lips quirked into a sleepy smile and she rubbed at her eyes. 

“Glad to hear you’re all getting along, but maybe go easy on him so he doesn’t wake up the whole palace.” 

“Sorry, Hiyori,” the three of them chimed together. Hiyori slid the door shut again and Kofuku turned evil eyes on Yato’s blanket nest. 

“Don’t you think Hiyori looked so cute in her pajamas?” 

“I’ll scream again. I really will.” Kofuku snickered but didn’t test his proclamation.

* * *

Despite his status as a hostage here, Yato couldn’t help but be taken by the familial atmosphere. Most of the Six were taking pains to make him feel welcome, even when he reacted with flat out hostility. That combined with the thin feeling of safety that came with the realization that he had some time before his father came for him both contributed to the delicate peace that had settled in his chest. 

“Porridge again?” Kofuku asked dismally. 

“If you don’t like it,  _ you  _ learn how to cook,” Yukine snapped, pouring some into her bowl. 

“I know how to cook,” Yato piped up. It was one of the few things he was proud of, that he had trained his hands that had destroyed so much to create instead. 

“Really?” Hiyori asked. Yato nodded. 

“Then you won’t mind cooking dinner tonight,” Kazuma said. “If we have to eat Yukine’s burned porridge for breakfast and dinner again I might run away with you next time.” 

“It’s not burned that badly!” Yato took a bite and grimaced. 

“If you turn down the heat a little it will cook more evenly and you won’t burn it,” he suggested. 

“Let’s hope his cooking is better than his fighting. I  _ don’t  _ have hopes for you as a warrior,” Bishamon said. 

“You can count on it!” Yato said proudly. 

He thought about the last family dinner he had prepared, and his good mood vaporized. Sometimes Father insisted on Yato cooking for the four of them: Yato, Rabo, Nora, and Father. Yato  _ hated  _ these dinners and always spent the evening on edge, terrified of saying or doing something wrong. It was  _ exhausting _ . 

At least Yato always had Rabo. After ‘family dinners’ Yato would frequently drag Rabo back to their room and bury his face in Rabo’s neck until his hands stopped shaking. Rabo was the only person in the compound that Yato ever let his guard down around, and though he knew Rabo didn’t share his paralyzing fear of his father, he also never looked down on Yato for it. 

“Helloo-” Kofuku sang, waving her hand in front of Yato’s face, “earth to Yato!”

“S-sorry, what?” 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, are you alright?” Kazuma asked, looking concerned. 

“I’m fine, just trying to decide what to cook tonight, cooking for a crowd is always intimidating.” 

“I’m sure you’ll do great,” Hiyori said encouragingly. 

“Even if you don’t, it can’t get much worse than this,” Daikoku said, indicating Yukine’s burned porridge.

“Speaking of doing great, we talked about it and decided that today all of us are going to test your aptitude for different styles of martial arts. Maybe you’ll have an affinity for something,” Hiyori said. 

“Do I have too?” Yato asked, his trepidation over the concept real, “couldn’t I just start at level zero?”

“There is no level zero,” Bishamon scoffed. 

“I don’t like tests,” Yato said, shuddering slightly. With Father, everything was a test. Funny how most of those tests ended with Yato bruised and bloodied after he’d failed.

* * *

Yato had expected Hiyori to be the first to test him, she was the one who was trying the hardest to make him feel welcome, after all. That was not the case, however, and Yato didn’t like the analytical look on Kazuma’s face when he stepped forward. He tried frantically to remember if he’d given Kazuma any reason to be suspicious as a thrill of panic ran down his spine. 

“I want you to try to hit me. You won’t be able to, so don’t worry about holding back, and I won’t hurt you either.” 

“Gee, Kazuma, you sure know how to encourage a guy,” Yato grumbled, throwing his hands up in a ridiculous proximation of a fighting stance that would have sent Rabo and Nora into hysterics. He was  _ so  _ glad they weren’t here for this. Kazuma took in his stance critically while he waited for Yato to attack. 

Yato sighed internally and lunged for Kazuma, leaving himself wide open and going for Kazuma’s gut when his stance was clearly leaving his face more open for attacks. Kazuma grabbed Yato’s extended wrist and yanked him forward, placing his other hand on Yato’s back as he spun on the spot and forced Yato around, throwing him back to where he’d started. 

For the hell of it, Yato linked one of his ankles behind the other and went toppling to the ground. He hit the mat face first and groaned, pushing himself to his feet slowly. Kazuma dropped his face into his hands, pinching the bridge of his nose, and remained motionless for two solid minutes while Yato fought off laughter.

“Um,” Yato said eventually, looking over Kazuma’s shoulder to where the rest of the Six sat watching, “I think I broke Kazuma.” 

“You didn’t,” Kazuma interjected, “I’m fine, I just… didn’t realize how much of a lost cause you would be.” 

“There you go again with that stellar pep talk. You should quit the kung fu thing and be a motivational speaker.” 

“Just try again,” Kazuma said, “and go for the face this time.”

“Whatever you say,” Yato replied. 

Yato did as he was asked and yelped in surprise when Kazuma kicked his feet out from under him, only to catch him before he hit the ground. Their faces were no more than three inches apart, practically forcing Yato to notice what a lovely shade of green Kazuma’s eyes were. 

“Wow, a guy as cute as you sweeping me off my feet? My boyfriend would be jealous,” Yato said, grinning. Kazuma dropped Yato on his ass, looking annoyed. “I won’t tell if you won’t.” Yato winked. 

“Does someone else want to try?” Kazuma asked, walking away. 

Yato waved brightly and blew a kiss after him. When Kazuma sat down Bishamon wrapped her arm around him and glared at Yato. Hiyori hopped off her seat and walked to the mat, stretching her scarred arm across her torso. Yato climbed to his feet. 

“I won’t hurt you either, so don’t worry,” she said gently. 

“Okay.”

“I want to do something a bit differently. I’m going to try to attack you, and I want you to try to stop me, can you do that?” 

“Probably not.”

“Can you  _ try _ ?” 

“I can try.”

Yato brought back the shamefully ridiculous pose from earlier and watched her observe him, trying not to look like he was noticing that the scars ran up her arms all the way up to her shoulders, or how they peeked out on the exposed skin on the back of the neck and collar bone. What  _ had  _ caused them?

“Are you ready?” She asked, and his eyes snapped back to hers. 

“Uh, yeah.” 

Her muscles tensed and she dove into an attack, graceful and fierce. Her hair was thrown back as her torso shifted, her shoulder lifting her arm up higher. Yato saw the punch to the face coming and thought he might just let her do it. She was moving much slower than she had during her fight with Yukine, trying to give him the chance to block her attack. Despite this Yato could almost believe she was about to take flight like a real crane. 

He crossed his arms into a sloppy x in front of his face just in time to block her punch, but her fist never collided with his arms. Cautiously, Yato lowered his hands and saw her fist hovering inches away.  _ I won’t hurt you, she  _ had said. Not even a little bit, apparently. His heart softened slightly at the gentle treatment. 

“Again.” 

She attacked again, this time going for his stomach. Yato didn’t move fast enough to stop her, just to see, and again she stopped just inches from his body. His eyes met hers, glowing like cherry blossoms in the morning, and he felt his throat tighten as his cheeks warmed.

* * *

“I won’t be taking it easy on you, Dragon Warrior,” Bishamon growled, stepping forward with murder in her eyes.

“I had a feeling you’d be saying that,” Yato replied, shifting from foot to foot uneasily. He rubbed his shoulder, sore from his ‘tests’ with Kofuku and Daikoku, who had taken it easy on him without pulling their punches the way Kazuma and Hiyori had. Yato took a deep breath.  _ Remember, you can’t attack or defend yourself properly to keep your cover, no matter how much you want to knock her off her high horse.  _

She was in front of him in an instant, her fist colliding with his stomach in an attack he wouldn’t have been able to block even if he’d been trying. She really  _ wasn’t  _ holding back. Yato crashed to the ground, coughing and gasping for air. Hiyori cried out in outrage. 

“I want you to understand  _ exactly  _ what you’re up against, and how far out of your league you are. This isn’t a  _ game _ , and I’m not going to stand by while you flirt with Hiyori and Kazuma and treat it like it is one. Master Tenjin had the tournament because he felt the Valley of Peace was in danger of falling into war with the most evil man that has ever lived.”  _ You’re right about that bit at least, _ Yato thought.

He couldn’t ignore the irony of her giving  _ him  _ the speech of not knowing what the Sorcerer was capable of when Yato was the  _ only  _ person who  _ truly  _ knew what that was. Coughing and glaring, Yato climbed to his feet, an arm wrapped protectively around his stomach. 

“I’m more than happy to let you work your anger out on me, Bishamon, people pick on the village beggar all the time,” Yato began, voice hard, “but I’ll remind you that I didn’t ask Kazuma and Hiyori to go easy on me, they did that themselves. I didn’t  _ ask  _ to be the Dragon Warrior, in fact, I wasn’t even consulted. I’m being held captive here, so by all means, abuse the prisoner. I can take it, but don’t pretend that you’re better than me because you can beat up guys who can’t defend themselves.”

Bishamon’s nostrils flared in rage, and Yato had to admit he was enjoying this whole  _ holier than thou _ routine, even though he was the last person on the planet that should be acting sanctimoniously. She was making it so  _ easy _ though. 

“Put your hands up,” Bishamon ordered. 

Yato did as she asked, preparing to get his ass kicked. Perhaps one of the others would intervene, perhaps not. For all they knew Yato  _ didn’t  _ have any idea of the sort of danger they were in, and this could be a good wake up call. He took in the rage on Bishamon’s face and thought maybe flirting with her boyfriend had been a mistake. 

Yato cried out in pain when Bishamon landed her next hit. He hit the ground before rolling gracelessly to his feet and facing her again. Her next kick to the stomach knocked him back down. Blood splattered the mat when he coughed, confirming Yato’s grim suspicion that he’d felt something crack on impact. When Yato glanced up at the others to see their reaction he saw Hiyori on her feet with Kazuma’s hand wrapped around her wrist,his brow furrowed in concentration, watching everything Yato did carefully. 

The look confirmed Yato’s fears, Kazuma was suspicious of him. Kofuku too by the looks of her. They were watching to see if he would break, reveal some secret that they were sure he was keeping. Well, they were right about the secret but wrong about him breaking. He was going to have to do something extreme to make them trust him, something no one in their right mind would do. 

Thankfully Yato had never been in something one could call his ‘right’ mind. 

“Is that all you got?” Yato shouted, wiping the blood from his mouth. “I’ve gotten worse beatings from drunks who like to pick on homeless people. I thought the people in this temple were supposed to be able to fight!” 

To make it look more real Yato knew he would have to ‘try’ to fight back. He made several pathetic swings for Bishamon in between her powerful blows. Usually, she exploited his bad form to cause him  _ more  _ pain, but he kept pretending to try. Bishamon slammed him hard into the ground, threw him into the weapons rack, and once kicked him while he was down (and genuinely struggling to stand) before Kazuma got to his feet, a faint glimmer of what might be guilt for letting this sideshow continue in his eyes. 

“That’s enough, Viina. Why don’t we stop for the day?”

“No way, let’s keep going, I feel great,” Yato said, looking  _ much  _ worse for wear. Kazuma gave him an incredulous and horrified look as Yato rolled his hurt shoulder and cracked his neck. “Come on, this testing shit is boring as hell, let’s get it all done with today.” 

Hiyori gaped.

“You’re kidding,” Yukine said. 

“What’s the matter, kid? Scared you can’t follow this act? Figures, you’re two inches tall.”

“Shut up, idiot, I could ruin you just like Tigress could.” 

“Oh yeah? Prove it. Come on, short stuff, get your stick and kick my ass.” 

Yukine, apparently a short fused young man, sprung to his feet and snatched up his bo staff in one motion. 

“Yukine, I think not,” Kazuma interjected. He held out an arm to stop him, but Yukine ducked around him, meeting Yato’s mocking expression with a glare. 

“Bring it o-ah!” Yukine ducked down as soon as he was in range of Yato and swung a ferocious hit at Yato’s ankle joint. A loud crack echoed through the silent training hall seconds before Yato screamed. He hit the ground, shouting profanities, and clutching his ankle while the others shouted at Yukine. 

“Yukine what’s the matter with you?”

“He’s a trainee!”

“Monkey, you are in  _ serious  _ trouble!”

“Are you okay?” A gentler voice asked at his shoulder. Yato turned his tear-filled eyes to Hiyori. “Here let me see.” He nodded, then extended the throbbing appendage, wincing when Hiyori prodded it experimentally. 

“How is he?” Kazuma asked, sounding angry. 

“I think it’s just a fracture, not broken.”

* * *

Yato limped back to his room to change before making dinner. There was just a touch more blood and dirt on him than he liked to be covered in while he cooked. He groaned at all his aches and bruises, thinking his  _ idiot _ cover was completely intact as he was cursing his own stupidity right about now. 

He shouldn’t have provoked Yukine, but then he’d had no way of knowing he’d react that way. Still, Yato had thrown off all attempts to help him back to his room. 

“ _ Don’t worry, I’ve had much worse than this. I can walk fine. _ ”

This scene felt so familiar to him, limping through deserted halls to his sleeping quarters after a one-sided beating, except this time there would be no one waiting there for him with comfort and quiet listening.

Yato halted when he turned the corner into his corridor and stared sadly at the empty patch of wall next to his door. An apparition of Rabo leaned there, waiting for Yato to make his way back to their room and gazing at him with eyes that invited him to forget the rest of the world for a little while, just as he had done dozens of times before.

* * *

_ Yato leaned heavily against the wall, barely able to stand. He turned the corner to see Rabo casually leaning against the doorframe, remaining motionless while Yato struggled down the hall. He didn’t offer help, Yato wouldn’t accept it. He didn’t speak, Yato didn’t want his input. It took Yato several minutes to make it to the door and collapse into Rabo’s arms, then Rabo did the rest, carrying Yato into their room and closing the door behind them.  _

_ ~*~ _

_ Yato laid on Rabo’s chest, one hand resting over his heart to feel his heartbeat while the other clutched at his robes. He buried his face in Rabo’s shoulder, muffling his sobs even as they jolted his many injuries.  _

_ “I hate it here.”  _

_ “I know,” Rabo replied.  _

_ Yato slid his hand into Rabo’s hair, wondering how he kept it so soft. He took a deep breath of Rabo’s comforting scent before speaking again.  _

_ “I’m glad you’re here.” Rabo kissed the top of Yato’s head but didn’t speak. He didn’t usually.  _

_ “Father scares me,” Yato whimpered, just as he had a thousand times, pulling Rabo closer.  _

_ “Do as you’re told,” Rabo rumbled. “Don’t give him an excuse to hurt you.”  _

_ “He doesn’t need an excuse, he owns me.” Rabo didn’t deny it, it was true.  _

_ “I’m supposed to be going on a mission in two weeks, I’ll tell him I need your assistance.”  _

_ Yato smiled into the crook of Rabo’s neck. It was as close to a romantic gesture as the man was capable of,  _ ‘hey want to go kill people with me?’ _ As much as Yato  _ didn’t  _ want to kill people, Rabo knew it was preferable to being left here alone, where his fear weighed him down like an anvil tied to his neck.  _

_ He also thought Rabo liked the person Yato was when he wasn’t weighed down with fear,  _ and  _ the person who enjoyed his work,  _ and  _ the person who hated it. Rabo loved Yato’s brutality and his vulnerability. They were a perfect pair: armies fell at their feet and blood stained their bedsheets.  _

_ “Thank you,” Yato murmured, pressing a kiss to Rabo’s collar bone. He didn’t react so he planted another. Rabo cast him an amused glance before shifting underneath him so he could look at him better. Yato tangled his other hand in Rabo’s hair now, too, wishing they could be anywhere but here. _

* * *

Yato shook away the memory and strode into his room without looking at the apparition again, slamming the door closed behind him. 

~*~

“Maybe you should rest and let someone else cook tonight,” Kazuma suggested. 

“No way!” Yato replied. “I’m fine. Besides, I like to cook!” 

He stood on his tiptoes, balancing on his one good foot, and reached up for a spice, flinching when his shoulder protested. He switched arms, but the spice jar was still  _ just  _ out of reach. Daikoku appeared behind him and grabbed it, placing it on the counter to Yato’s right. “Thank you!”

“So where did you learn to cook, Yato?” Kofuku asked. 

“I taught myself some, learned some working in restaurants. The cooks said I was a really fast learner.”

“Maybe you’ll pick up on kung fu quickly then,” Hiyori proposed. Yato shrugged his uninjured shoulder. 

“Dunno.” 

“Do you have any other special skills?” Kazuma asked. 

“You mean like sewing?”

“You know how to sew?”

“Yup.” 

“You’ll make a perfect house husband for someone someday,” Bishamon said. 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Yato replied. 

Yato began carefully dicing the vegetables laid out in front of him. He’d hoped to make something a bit fancier on his first night cooking to impress the Six, but after seeing how poorly stocked their kitchen was, he settled on beef stew. There weren’t enough ingredients here to do much else, although he  _ had  _ been able to prepare some fresh bread to go with the stew. It was in the oven now and it smelled  _ wonderful _ combined with the aroma arising from his pot. 

He’d already made a shopping list for whoever was in charge of those sorts of things. There was no telling how long he’d be here, but he planned on doing most of the cooking while he was. Despite his desire to leave he hoped that the Six would like his stew. His cooking was something he took great pride in, after all. 

The rest of the Six sat, chatting merrily at the table, the tension from the tests earlier today all but gone. He could feel Hiyori casting him concerned glances, but the scene felt almost… welcoming. The domesticity was oddly comforting, even as it came with the discomfort of the unknown. Everyone but Yukine and Bishamon were offering to help him constantly, and Hiyori and Daikoku had insisted on setting the table. Every act of kindness set him on edge, but with every silly joke and echo of laughter, he started to believe that maybe all of this  _ wasn’t  _ an act. Maybe.

“So,” Daikoku started, “did you have anyone to cook for when you were… wherever you were before here?” 

Yato stopped chopping, about to snap a negative reply but stopped himself. If he were ever going to escape again, he’d need them to believe he was settling in. Besides, what was the harm in telling them a  _ little _ about Rabo? He liked to talk about Rabo, and he missed him. 

“Yes and no.” 

His declaration was followed by a surprised silence in which he realized none of them had actually expected him to reply. 

“How can it be both?” Yukine asked. 

Yato paused again, thinking carefully about how much to tell them and  _ how  _ to tell them. 

“We sort of… broke up before I moved to the Valley of Peace.” 

“Sort of?” Kofuku asked. 

“Well, it’s just, I ran away.”

“Ran away?” Yukine asked. “Why?” There was a strangeness in his tone that Yato once again recognized. He glanced over his shoulder to see the note of alarm in Yukine’s face. 

“It’s complicated.” Yato turned back to his stew, stirring it a few more times before attempting to lift the heavy pot from the fire and thinking better of it. The image of himself tripping and spilling hot stew all over himself was not a welcome one. “You know what, can someone help me with this?” 

“I’ve got it,” Daikoku said, getting to his feet. Yato nodded in thanks before retrieving the bread himself. Daikoku dipped stew into bowls while Yato cut the bread and passed it out, smiling warmly, unable to turn off his happy host mode. He really liked cooking. 

“So, what happened between the two of you? You keep talking in the past tense, and no boyfriend has come pounding at the door demanding your release,” Kazuma pointed out. 

Yato chuckled at the mental image of Rabo pounding on the door and screaming for them to release Yato rather than slipping in like a snake and doing away with them all in their sleep. 

“I left him… I didn’t like the man he worked for, and I knew he wouldn’t leave his job.” 

“Did you ask him? A relationship is all about communication,” Daikoku asked. 

Yato nodded. “A couple of times. I kinda do this a lot,” Yato admitted sheepishly, tugging his earlobe unconsciously. 

Yato  _ had  _ tried to get Rabo to run with him on multiple occasions, but Rabo liked the virtually unlimited killing without consequence that Father offered too much. He would never fit somewhere else; he just wasn’t built for ordinary life. 

“So, our newest member has an on again off again boyfriend,” Kofuku said brightly, taking a sip of her soup. Yato chuckled. 

“That’s one way of putting it, though for the record I don’t think  _ he  _ would appreciate it.”

“Who cares what that guy thinks?” Yukine joked, “You guys are off again right now, right?” 

“I guess, we’ve never actually talked about what we are or aren’t when I run off. He knows that sometimes I see other people, but we don’t talk about it.” Yato bit his lip.

“This is really good, Yato!” Hiyori said. Yato grinned, glad of the distraction. 

“Thanks, I’m glad you like it!”

“The most important thing is: is he cute? Tell us what he looked like,” Kofuku demanded. “You said earlier that he’d be jealous of Kazu, was he as cute as him?” Yato grinned. 

“He wasn’t cute, he was  _ beautiful _ ,” Yato said emphatically. “But like, in a scary way.” Yato collapsed against the back of his chair, sighing wistfully. How best to describe Rabo? He was fairly certain that none of the Six had ever gotten a good look at him, so it shouldn’t be dangerous. 

“Ooh, now I  _ have  _ to know every detail!”

“His hair is  _ almost  _ as long as Bishamon’s and it was wavy and silver and it was always  _ so  _ soft.”

“Did he keep it clean?” Bishamon asked. “It’s a pain to wash.”

“I would  _ not  _ date a guy with dirty hair.” 

“So far your man sounds like a fairy tale prince,” Hiyori said, sounding amused. Yato burst out laughing. 

“He would  _ hate  _ to be called that.”

“You said he was scary, though,” Yukine said, that familiar alarm back. 

“He was, but mostly because his eyes were red, just like blood. People said he looked evil, but I liked it.”

“Do you miss him?” Hiyori asked suddenly. 

“Yeah,” Yato said quietly. “I do.” 

They finished their meal and Yato stayed back to wash the dishes, even though Daikoku and Kofuku offered to. He wanted to stay in the kitchen for as long as possible. It felt warmer and more familiar to him than the rest of the palace. A cook he had worked for once told him that all kitchens in their way were the same: a stove, a fire, and a set of knives. 

Yato hummed quietly while he worked, and though he could sense someone hovering just around the corner, he didn’t call out. He supposed they still weren’t going to leave him alone but wanted him to have some sense of freedom and independence. Would that have been the case if he hadn’t had that breakdown last night, he wondered? They were probably treading carefully around him because they didn’t know what specifically had triggered the episode. 

When he finished putting away the dishes he headed back to his room, whoever was following him always just out of sight. His mind was full on his way back to his room. He’d shared more than he’d meant too, but he didn’t think he’d given away anything dangerous. Plus, it had felt  _ nice  _ to talk about Rabo. The only people he could confide in at home were Rabo and Nora, and Nora wasn’t exactly old enough to make sound dating council. 

Once,  _ once _ , he’d tried asking Father for advice, and it had been a disaster. Yato understood now why the man had two  _ adopted  _ children, because his ideas on how to maintain a romantic relationship were frankly disturbing. 

He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice the two people standing outside his door, leaning against the door frame and waiting for him to limp back into his room until one of them spoke. Yato jumped so violently, imagining for one wild second that Rabo had somehow already found him, that he fell flat on his ass, shouting. 

“Give a little warning, why don’t you?” Yato snapped, glaring up at Yukine and Hiyori, who looked just as surprised to see Yato on the floor as Yato was to be on the floor. They exchanged a perplexed look. 

“We thought you saw us,” Hiyori said. 

“Well, I didn’t. What do you want?”

“Just to hang out,” Hiyori responded evasively. Yato narrowed his eyes at her. 

“Babysitting, huh? You’re here to make sure I don’t make a run for it again.” 

“You got it,” Yukine said. Yato sighed. 

“Alright, whatever. It’s not like I’ve got a choice.” 

He struggled to his feet, ignoring Hiyori’s offered hand, and brushed past them, plopping down on his futon. 

“How’s your ankle?” Yukine asked, sounding slightly guilty.

“Fantastic,” Yato said, lying spread eagle on his back.

“Is it badly hurt?” Hiyori asked, kneeling at his side and pressing her fingers to the joint. He jerked it away.

“It’s fine.”

“You’ve been limping all day,” Yukine said. “Hiyori has medical training; you should let her look.” 

“...fine,” Yato relented because he thought it would be more suspicious to say no. 

Yato shot them both annoyed looks. Yukine rolled his eyes and sat with legs folded and arms crossed by the window while Hiyori pulled out her medical supplies. She took his ankle in her hands and moved it experimentally. Yato protested loudly. 

“That  _ hurts _ !”

“I’m sorry, I needed to know how bad it was.” She turned reproachful eyes on Yukine. “Yukine you owe him an apology!”

“What for? He was asking for it.” 

“He’s right,” Yato agreed. “I did literally ask him to kick my ass, Hiyori. This one is on me.”

“Why though? Why provoke Yukine? Why keep getting back up when Bishamon was beating you?” 

Yato sighed and leaned his head back against the wall. 

“To prove a point, I wanted Bishamon to know I’m not scared of her and she can’t bully me.”  _ And I wanted to get beaten all to hell and back to make Kazuma thinks I wasn’t faking being weak.  _

“I suppose that makes sense in a backward way, and the reason you had to provoke Yukine?”

“Showing off, I guess. How could I not in front of such a cute guy and pretty girl?” Hiyori blushed faintly and looked back down at her work, pulling out the components for a splint. 

“Don’t let Daikoku or Bishamon hear you say that they won’t like you flirting with Kofuku and Kazuma so much.” Yato snorted. 

“Right.”

“How the hell is getting your ass kicked showing off?”

“I was showing off my toughness and snarky comment abilities!” Yato said. Yukine laughed out loud. 

“And you had to get your ass beat to do that?”

“I work best under pressure!” Yukine laughed again. Yato grimaced as Hiyori tied the splint to his leg tightly and stood, giving the two of them an exasperated look. 

“I’m done with your ankle, now let me see your shoulder,” She shifted closer on her knees and reached for the neckline of his shirt, but he recoiled. 

“It’s fine, it doesn’t hurt anymore.” 

If she looked at his shoulder, she would see his extensive scarring. He had no way of explaining the patchwork of former injuries that made up his skin, and there was no reason why someone other than a warrior would have as many near-fatal wounds as he had. They’d be suspicious for sure, and then this whole getting his ass kicked ordeal would have been for nothing. 

“Are you sure?” Hiyori asked, sounding uncertain. Yato nodded. 

“It was just a twinge earlier, and it’s gone now. Don’t worry,” he got to his feet and took a few steps to test out his ankle and was surprised by how much the splint helped with the pain. 

“Wow, Hiyori, you’re awesome! This hardly hurts at all anymore!” Hiyori smiled up at him, though she did shoot a concerned look at his ankle.

“I’m glad, but you really should keep weight off it. I also brought ointments that will help your bruises heal faster.” Yato shook his head. 

“Thanks, but I’m fine. You know what  _ would  _ be good, though? We should go outside and play!”

“What?” Yukine asked. 

“We should go outside and play! I can walk now, and Hiyori promised to take me on a tour of the gardens, so let’s go! Does the pond have koi I can feed? I really like koi fish.” 

“You’re like a child, it’s unbelievable,” Yukine said. Yato grinned at him. 

“Oh,  _ come on _ , Yukine. Taking me out to play is the least that you can do after hurting me!” He pouted his lip. “ _ Please _ .” 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, Yato,” Hiyori said. “Your ankle is injured; you need to rest it.” 

Yato turned his sad look on her. He wanted to go outside and feel the fresh air on his skin, being trapped inside all the time was just like being home. 

“But I don’t like being cooped up!” Yato whined. He fell to his knees and dramatically wrapped his arms around Hiyori’s waist, pulling at her clothes. “ _ Please come play with me, Hiyori!” _

“Yato!” She protested, “don’t pull!” Yato continued to pull. 

“Pretty please! I hate being trapped inside! It’s so depressing in here I just want to play outside!” He started sniffling as big fat alligator tears collected at the corners of his eyes.

“Are you  _ crying _ ?” Yukine asked incredulously. “What a baby! Hiyori, we should take him out just to shut him up.” 

“Ple _ ase _ ,” Yato begged. 

“Fine, but only for a little while,” Hiyori relented. 

“Yay! Thank you, Hiyori!” Yato cheered, leaping to his feet, eyes dry once again. Hiyori laughed indulgently. Yato ignored the way his heart skipped at the expression. 

He led the way outside, talking brightly, very excited. Not only would exploring a little give him a better chance when he decided to make a run for it, but he would also get to be  _ outside _ . Yato had always found comfort in the night sky and the way the world looked soft beneath the moonlight. 

The daytime was all hard work and suffering, but in the time after Father went to bed and the world slept with him, everything was quiet. Yato would sit on the porch and tilt his head back, listen to the sounds of the night for hours. The crickets would hum, the wind would rustle, and Rabo’s quiet breathing at his back would drown out all the screaming that tormented his mind. 

On those nights Yato would hum quiet tunes to himself, swinging his legs off the edge of the porch, and glance over his shoulder to see Rabo’s red eyes fixed on him, glowing and softened by sleep. Yato would wonder if Rabo had been watching him the whole time, and he would feel safe in the quiet of the night with no one but Rabo to see. 

Yato smiled softly, remembering. Hiyori took his arm to steady him down the stairs and his mind surfaced slowly in the present. He met her eyes and she smiled at him, reading his nostalgic smile as excitement, and maybe it was. He’d always felt safer under the moon. 

As soon as he stepped into the garden, he threw his head back and let the sounds of the night wash over him. The Jade Palace had a lot more sounds than Yato’s home in the Forest of Despair did. He could hear the distant methodic pounding of the guard’s feet, the plop of koi in the pond, crickets, cicadas, and the pinging of the deer scarer. Wind ruffled his hair and he sighed heavily, opening his eyes to see the moon, just a crescent tonight, and he was glad for the clear view of the sky. 

“Yato?” Hiyori asked, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he said quietly. “I just love the nighttime.” 

A few quiet moments passed before Yato demanded the grand tour. 

“Alright, there’s a little spot hidden between the bamboo thicket and the wall where Tenjin likes to go to meditate,” Hiyori said. “It’s lovely, and of course quiet.” 

“I like the sound of bamboo in the wind,” Yato chimed in. 

“There are all different kinds of flowers growing here, but I don’t know what they’re all called. On the other side of the building are the outdoor training grounds. These are the main gardens, but there are smaller ones all over.”

They spent at least an hour exploring the grounds. Hiyori showed him all the nooks and crannies and the best places to go to be alone, not that he was allowed to be alone. There were laughter and jokes, and eventually they made it around the entire palace, getting strange looks from the night patrols, and wound up back in the garden they had started in. 

“So that’s about it, I’ve shown you everything there is to see about the palace grounds,” Hiyori said with a yawn. 

The moon was nearly overhead, it was almost midnight. Yato was about to suggest they turn in when he saw three roughly even pieces of bamboo laying on the ground nearby. He grinned and scooped them all up, tossing one each to Hiyori and Yukine. He placed a hand over one of his eyes. 

“Did you know I’ve always wanted to be a pirate?” He held his free hand up and curled his index finger into the shape of a hook. Hiyori laughed. 

“Really?” She asked, bringing her bamboo into a ready position. Yato grinned triumphantly. Nora and Rabo would never play with him. “Because I’ve always wanted to  _ catch  _ a pirate.” 

“Bet you can’t catch me! Yukine, will you join me on my evil quest to kidnap the princess or will you defend her honor with Hiyori?” Yukine rolled his eyes. 

“What princess?” 

“I dunno! A princess! Pirates kidnap princesses, right?” 

“Whatever, I’ll help you, so it’ll be an even fight. There’s no way you stand a chance against Hiyori on your own.” 

“Aye, matey!” Yato said, in his best pirate voice. Yukine made a disgusted sound and turned his bamboo sword on Hiyori, who grinned at him. 

“Two against one I see; I always love a challenge.”

“You’ll never defeat me, the mighty Dragon of the Sea!” 

Hiyori chuckled at Yato’s play on his new title, dodging his attack easily. In the same move she lunged for him, but Yukine blocked the attack. Yato took the opportunity to swing clumsily for Hiyori’s shoulder. 

“You’ll never capture the princess you scallywags!” Hiyori said, spinning away from Yato’s attack. Yukine and Yato gave chase, Yato noticing that the others were moving slowly. He wondered if they were holding back because he was playing an idiot who couldn’t fight, because he’d hurt his ankle, or both. 

“You can’t stop me!” Yato growled in his pirate voice. “I’ll have the princess for my...uh… evil doings!”

“We’ll hold her for ransom,” Yukine suggested, not using a pirate voice, but looking like he was purposefully concealing that he was having fun. 

“Ye!” Yato cried, closing one eye instead of using his hand as an eye patch. “We’ll be holdin’ ‘er for ransom!” Hiyori laughed loudly at his exaggerated accent. 

“The only thing you’ll get is a noose around your neck, pirate!” Hiyori cried. “No one has ever gotten past me!”

“We’ve never failed to capture our mark!” Yukine said, jabbing at Hiyori’s side. 

She deflected the blow at the same time she swung her leg towards Yato. He jumped back, pretending to collapse onto his knee when he put too much weight on his ankle, but popped right back up. 

“That’s right! We be the best pirates that ever been!”

“You’ll be bird food before long!” 

“Well I taste bad!” Hiyori let out a surprised shriek of laughter at his response, then clapped a hand over her mouth and glanced up at the windows where the rest of the Six were no doubt trying to sleep. She giggled more quietly when none of the windows slid open. “All pirate kings like myself do!”

“Well this is land, Pirate, the only king here is His Imperial Majesty! You’re just a tyrant and an imposter!”

“A tyrant who’s in charge is still in charge!” Yato replied, his father coming to mind. He pushed the thought away and focused on his game. “I own the seven seas! No one takes to the water without me knowing about it!”

“Is that so? Were you aware my forces are leading an invasion of your stronghold as we speak?” 

“We were expecting you!” Yukine improvised, parrying Hiyori’s blow then making an attack of his own. “We already laid traps, mines in the water!”  _ Clever _ , Yato thought. 

Yato was impressed by how effortlessly Hiyori held off the two of them, even though Yato was pretending to be incompetent and they were only play fighting. She whirled and spun like a tornado, and on the occasions when they landed a blow, she favored the ‘injured’ limb. Her untied hair fanned out behind her, shining in the moonlight and being a terrible distraction. Cherry blossom eyes flashed with humor as she danced under the onslaught of their attacks. Yato gulped, doing his best to focus on his game and his character and not overdoing it, and not being distracted by the weightlessness Hiyori seemed to have as she jumped and flipped around their bamboo swords. 

“Your bombs won’t stop all of my men! There are a hundred ships headed towards your base, some are bound to get through!”

“But will it be enough?” Yato countered, “My island is protected by a thousand of the most brutal pirates the world has ever seen! Will your pampered imperial army stand a chance?”

“My soldiers are the best trained in the land! No filthy pirates will stop them!”

“What does being dirty have to do with it? My men can fight just as well as any man who bathes can!” Hiyori laughed again. 

“Pirates fight well enough to not need baths!” Yukine chimed in, rolling his eyes. Yato laughed out loud, wondering when the last time he’d had this much fun was. 

Yato and Yukine chased Hiyori onto the small bridge over the stream, where she leapt onto the railing and danced around them, hopping over their heads from side to side as she pleased. Yato admired her balance, he certainly couldn’t have managed that, even with two uninjured ankles. Hiyori leapt over their heads and landed behind them, jabbing Yato in the side, still being careful not to hurt him. 

“Arg! You got me! You treacherous bird!” He gripped his side as Yukine snorted. “I’ll have my revenge!” 

By the rules of fair play Yato now had to fight with only one hand, using the other to staunch the flow of blood from his imaginary wound or else he’d collapse and die a pretend death.

* * *

“I wish they’d quiet down out there,” Daikoku groaned, cracking an eye open to look at his wife, who was gazing out the window at the dueling trio. 

“But don’t you think they’re so cute?” Kofuku asked. “Look at them, like a little family.” 

Daikoku groaned and rolled out of bed to join his wife at the window, wrapping an arm around her. He smiled softly as Yato cried out and clutched at his side. One entire side of his face was scrunched up like he was holding one eye closed for some reason. 

“It seems like they’re getting along well, maybe he’s settling in.” 

“I don’t know, maybe he just wanted to scope out more potential escape routes,” Kofuku said. “He seemed pretty desperate to leave.” 

“The kid’s pretending to be a pirate, Kofuku, he’s not exactly the picture of desperation right now.” 

“You’re right about that, he does seem to be having a lot of fun.”

“They’re all still young,” Daikoku said. “I bet there will be more nights like this in our future.” Kofuku chuckled. 

“They might bring a bit more life into this old place. Things were starting to get monotonous.” Daikoku chuckled and kissed his wife’s forehead. 

“At least we’ll have better food for a while.” 

Kofuku smiled, leaning against the windowsill when her husband went back to bed. She narrowed her eyes appraisingly and watched Yato move. His limp wasn’t nearly as severe, she could just make out a splint on his ankle. His movements were jerky and unpracticed until they weren’t. Every so often Hiyori would take him by surprise, and he would move with practiced motions. His attacks were shoddy, but his feet were planted solidly. There was training hiding under his facade of ignorance, for certain. How interesting. There must be a reason he was pretending to be clumsy. Kofuku wondered if Kazuma was watching, he seemed to be the only other person who thought there was more to Yato than a random citizen they’d snatched off the streets.

* * *

Kazuma watched the controlled arc of Yato’s bamboo sword, and though he almost never hit what he should have been aiming for, Kazuma thought he was hitting exactly what he was  _ actually  _ aiming for. He had almost been convinced when Yato had let Viina hurt him like that, but now that he was watching Yato when he was unaware of being watched he saw mistakes that revealed an understanding of Kung Fu that Yato was pretending he didn’t have. 

Beneath all the sloppy attacks were solid footwork and skilled compensation for his injuries. Whatever his reason for hiding his skills, Kazuma suspected it wasn’t a good one. He watched Yato duck low and swing for Hiyori’s legs, and despite his sloppy grip, his body followed through with the attack perfectly, allowing him to keep his balance. It was a move that Yato had probably forgotten was difficult for beginners, much less ones with a fractured ankle. Hiyori leapt over the too-slow blow with all of her usual grace, though he thought he saw her and Yukine exchange a look when Yato was pretending to stumble. Good, so they were paying attention. 

“Aww, Hiyori,” Yato whined, his voice carrying across the lawn, “how are you so cool?” Hiyori laughed.

“You’ll be just as good as me one day!”

_ He might be already. In fact, he may even be the best of us.  _


	4. 3- Heathens

Yato shifted from foot to foot uneasily, one hand reaching up unconsciously to massage his earlobe. Now that he was standing across the mat from Kazuma, Yato was thoroughly regretting teasing him that morning. Should Kazuma decide on revenge Yato would have no recourse, for there were far worse things waiting for him if he was found out. 

It had all started that morning when Kazuma had woken the sleeping trio, livid, by tearing Yato’s blanket away and shouting for several minutes at Hiyori and Yukine. Well, he hadn’t  _ technically  _ raised his voice, but he’d been very stern, and his ceaseless composure had been quite unsettling. At any point after Hiyori and Yukine had dozed off Yato could have escaped, he told them. Apparently, it meant nothing that he  _ hadn’t _ . They had worn themselves out playing  _ pirates _ and had failed in their duties. 

Yato had been alarmed to know that Kazuma had been watching and he’d never sensed his gaze. He went over his memories of the previous night again in a panic, wondering if he’d slipped up and done anything that could expose him, but no, he’d been careful. 

Despite the fact that Kazuma hadn’t raised his voice the three of them were cowed; even Yato who technically hadn’t been in trouble. Still, the scolding had irked him, so when Kazuma had escorted Yato to the kitchen to cook breakfast he had decided to play a little joke. 

He hadn’t  _ actually _ done anything to the food, only  _ implied  _ he had, but Kazuma didn’t take the joke well. His poor reaction had made it even funnier until Yato found himself across the mat from an angry kung fu master and realized that maybe his dad had been right, and he  _ didn’t  _ think things through. 

There was a long moment of silence in which Kazuma watched Yato grow increasingly uneasy, shuffling uncomfortably. 

“How’s your ankle?” Kazuma asked, “It’s been splinted but you’re still favoring it. You didn’t overwork it playing last night, did you?” 

“I-um-what? It’s fine I guess, not that you care,” he grumbled. 

“I don’t ask questions I don’t care to hear the answer to.” 

Yato frowned. 

“It’s fine.” 

“You still have a limp.”

“I’ve had worse.”

“So, you’ve said,” Kazuma replied, looking perplexed.

Yato continued watching him suspiciously, unwilling to be lulled into a false sense of security. Kazuma watched him back curiously, noting his anxiety. 

“We’re going to work on breathing, stretching, and stances today since yours were abysmal yesterday. Hiyori will be joining us once she finishes teaching the children’s class.” 

“Wait, what?” Yato asked. “You’re really not going to hit me? Even though I was mean to you this morning?” 

Kazuma looked aghast. “Of course not.”

“So… no fighting today? Really?”

“Really. Doctors’ orders. Hiyori said we can’t put too much strain on your ankle until it’s healed, not that you’re ready for combat training anyway. Is that why you’ve been so tense? You thought I was going to hurt you?” Yato took in Kazuma’s concerned expression and realized he was being genuine. 

He scoffed. 

“Whatever. Tigress will probably kick my ass again when it’s her turn to babysit.” 

“The rest of us have decided that Viina is to have no part in your training, at least until you’re actually able to defend yourself. She is… measurably more upset about your stay here than the rest of us.” 

“It probably doesn’t help that I flirted with her boyfriend,” Yato joked. 

“It certainly didn’t make her like you anymore.” 

Yato shot Kazuma a sultry smile and took a few steps closer, his swagger thrown off by his pronounced limp. 

“What about you?” He asked, “did it make  _ you  _ like me any better?” Kazuma rolled his eyes.

“Less actually, I like a bit of romancing, you know?” 

“My bad, how about a candlelit dinner for two?” 

“It’s very kind of you to offer to cook for Viina and me.” 

Yato chuckled and grinned lopsidedly, “alright I get it, you’re  _ very  _ taken. Bummer, I’ve always had a thing for green eyes.” 

“I thought you liked red eyes, and now that I think about it, Hiyori’s eyes are pink, a shade of red. Yato, I think you have a type.” Yato felt heat rush into his cheeks. 

“That’s not- I don’t… it’s not because of- shut  _ up  _ Kazuma!” Kazuma laughed heartily at Yato’s expense while Yato grew more and more irritated. 

“Alright, alright, I’m kidding.” 

“That’s so mean!”

“Consider it my revenge for this morning.” 

Yato opened his mouth to respond, then hesitated. “Fine. I deserved that.” 

“Now if it’s alright with you I’d like to get on with our breathing exercises.”

“Great! I’m awesome at breathing! Not to brag but I’ve kind of been doing it my whole life.”

“You’re hilarious.”

“Thank you. I’ll be here all week, and also the foreseeable future.”

“You might want to save the jokes for trying to impress Hiyori, I’m taken, remember?” Yato snorted. “And  _ that _ was a prime example of bad breathing.” 

Yato smiled. “Okay fine, I’ll behave. Teach me the ancient art of respiration oh wise insect.” Kazuma shook his head and sat down. Yato followed suit, copying Kazuma’s crossed legs and resting his hands on his knees. 

“Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth slowly. Fill up your lungs all the way up before exhaling.” Kazuma closed his eyes and began the exercise, Yato following suit, already bored. 

It had been years since he’d sat down and focused on his breathing and only his breathing. At home, he’d been too on edge to get any relaxation, and when he went out with Rabo on missions he had other things on his mind. Here, though, it was different. He was technically a captive, but he still felt certain the Six had no intention of hurting him beyond the damage that he’d already been dealt. 

Not to mention this place held life. It wasn’t weighed down by the heavy silence that blanketed his home in the Forest of Despair. He could feel people moving around the castle even though he couldn’t see or hear them. There were children on the other side of the palace, bright sparks of optimism and joy all crowded around a presence that must have been Hiyori. This was a happy place, not at all like home and the aura of death that choked him there. 

Yato sagged and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. He glanced over and saw Kazuma watching him curiously. 

“What’s the matter?”

“This is boring.” 

“Your aura is roiling. This is the first time I’ve been able to feel it. I was beginning to think you didn’t have one,” Yato huffed and took a deep breath. Kazuma noted this failed attempt to reign in his emotions. “Go to your happy place.” 

Where was that?  _ This  _ place was certainly happy, but not for him. Was it the place where the moon shone off Rabo’s hair while the rest of the house was asleep, or the forts of pillows and blankets he made with Nora when they were still young? Was it the garden where Hiyori had won a spectacular victory over him and Yukine with the use of only one of her legs and three of her fingers; forcing Yato to walk the plank and making him forget, just for a moment, who he was? 

His lips quirked into a smile as the image faded and another took its place. The restaurant he’d dragged the reluctant Nora and Rabo to after a job far from home had gone particularly well. Nora had thought it was a bad idea because Father hadn’t any spies in this town, but Rabo knew that’s exactly why Yato wanted to stop  _ there _ . 

They paid for a private dining room and Yato had gotten entirely too drunk, and much to Nora’s disgust, thrown himself at the other two all night long. Yato was an affectionate drunk as it happened. Before he drank himself under the table, though, the mood had been light. He’d made Nora laugh more than once and Rabo had only rolled his eyes a little when Yato tried to feed him. He still refused to be fed, on account of having self-respect, but it was the first time Yato had realized that he wasn’t the only one who felt the effects of the oppressive atmosphere in Father’s Compound, he was just the worst at hiding it. The realization made him feel oddly less alone. 

Yato held onto the peace of that memory. It was a place in his mind far from the blood and torment of his work, and he realized with a jolt that this place was like that one, in a way. He was safe here, at least for now, and wasn’t now all he’d ever had?

Kazuma watched Yato inquisitively as he got his emotions under control. He’d have liked to know what that flare of fear and anger had been about earlier, but already knew better than to ask. As quickly as it had come it was gone, replaced by something gentler that Kazuma couldn’t identify because of Yato’s weak presence. It seemed he was only able to read strong emotions from the man. 

That in and of itself was curious. Kazuma had never met someone with such a weak aura before, almost like it wasn’t there at all. The closest thing he’d ever seen was the Sorcerer’s Phantoms, the mindless puppets who’d had their chi stolen by the Sorcerer. He’d be tempted to believe Yato was one of them, except he very clearly had a mind of his own as he never hesitated to speak what was on it at any given moment, even when doing so got him hurt badly. 

And  _ there  _ was a whole other can of worms. Kazuma was more certain than ever that Yato was hiding a history of combat training. But why? And where? And did the where have anything to do with the why? No one in their right mind would take a beating like the one Yato had unless they were certain that there was something worse waiting for them on the other side of the truth. But  _ why _ ? He couldn’t imagine a benevolent reason that Yato would go to such lengths to conceal his true skills. 

The problem was that Yato didn’t  _ seem  _ malevolent, no matter how hard Kazuma looked. He didn’t hold a shred of ill will in him towards the Six, not even Viina. There was targetless anger below the surface that he’d only caught snatches of that reminded him of Yukine, and then, of course, there was the episode of uncontrolled fear he’d had. The more Kazuma looked the more questions he came up with, and Yato was determined not to answer them. It seemed his only course of action was to pretend to believe Yato was an idiot and hope he let his guard down.

“Where’s everyone else?” Yato asked suddenly. 

“What?”

“If Hiyori is teaching a class, where are your girlfriend and Daikoku and Kofuku? Do you have three classes going on at once?” 

“They’re preparing for the annual community outreach program; it starts the day after tomorrow.”

“The what?” 

“Once a year we get together and prepare a community event where we all help take care of problems in the community, like home and road repairs, and the Jade Palace sponsors everything. It’s just a way to spread goodwill and help out the villagers. People volunteer and everything.” 

“Is there a meal for the homeless involved?” Yato asked. Kazuma looked guilty. 

“Usually we cook a meal for anyone who wants to come but this year we couldn’t get anyone to do the cooking.”

“Can I do it?”

“What?”

“Can I cook the meal for the homeless?” 

“Yato I’m not sure-”

“You can assign someone to babysit me if you think I’m going to run for it, but you should let me prepare the meal for the less fortunate, and the volunteers if you want. Please?”

“Why is it important to you?”

“You’ve got a decent-sized homeless population in the village, and we take care of each other when we can. A lot of people were good to me when I came to the Valley of Peace and I just want to return the favor.” 

The door behind Yato’s back opened and he spun around, grinning when he laid eyes on Hiyori.

“Hiyori, Kazuma hates poor people!”

“What?” Kazuma and Hiyori asked at once. 

“I told Kazuma I want to cook the free meal for your community outreach program, and he said no because he doesn’t want poor people to eat!”

“But that would be perfect, we already know Yato can cook,” Hiyori said, looking thoughtful. “Not to mention people will want to see the Dragon Warrior after the tournament. I think we should do it.” 

“I wasn’t sure if it was the best idea-”

“He thinks I’m going to run away again.” 

Hiyori waved a hand dismissively. “We can let Kofuku stay with him since we don’t let her help with construction anyway,” Hiyori said. “It will be reassuring to the villagers to see the Dragon Warrior is interested in helping the community.”

“I suppose,” Kazuma agreed. 

Yato punched the air. “Alright!”

* * *

Yato bustled around the kitchen, having been excused from his Kazuma-monitored-breathing to help prepare for the community outreach program. He was now, somehow, in charge of all food. How and why they had given him command of several people was a mystery to him, he was a captive and he’d never been in charge of anything. In fact, his father found him so notoriously unreliable he put Nora in charge of Yato sometimes. 

Still, he was determined to impress them all with a well-organized kitchen and a memorable meal. Sadly, he was already failing at the former. Everything was chaos. But it wasn’t his fault! He’d been tasked with preparing a meal for over a hundred people with only two days’ notice, so he was sending people all over town for ingredients because he didn’t have in and out privileges of his own. 

“Well, we need a kitchen!” He said to yet another runner who came back with an owner’s refusal to allow the Jade Palace to serve from their facility. They very well couldn’t bake everything then carry it down the ten million stairs that led to the Jade Palace. It would be cold by the time they reached the village, for a start.

“He said no!”

“Did you try fake crying?” 

“Try- what?” The servant asked. Yato threw an arm around her shoulders conspiratorially. 

“Listen, you’re a pretty girl, and old men can’t tell crying girls no. So just go down there, shed a few tears, and he’ll cave!”

“You’re a skeevy person, aren’t you?” She deadpanned, flicking Yato’s arm off her. Yato glared. 

“Can you fake cry or not?” 

“Fine.” She turned and stormed away, huffing. 

“What did you do to Mayu?” Kazuma asked, catching her angry expression as she passed him in the door. 

“I just asked her to fake cry to get some old guy to lend us his restaurant kitchen for the day,” Yato said, shrugging. “I don’t know what her problem is, it’s for a good cause.” Kazuma looked like he didn’t even know what to do with that statement, so he ignored it. 

“It’s pretty chaotic in here,” he observed instead. 

“Yeah, well, cooking for one hundred plus people is a huge task to take on, especially so soon beforehand. We’re scrambling to find the ingredients we need, and we’ve started baking bread  _ now _ because it takes  _ forever _ . We’re making a hearty curry because it’s well suited to be made in large batches and we can put in a lot of nutrition for people who don’t eat regularly. We’re basically prepping the ingredients now so we can just toss it all in a pot on the day of and it won’t be a problem. Still, a lot of the side dishes need to be prepared right before they’re served…” Yato trailed away, watching as the kitchen staff worked diligently. 

“It seems like you’ve got everything under control,” Kazuma said, impressed. 

“Glad it seems that way,” Yato replied idly. “I guess I learned more working in restaurants than I thought I did. I never made manager, but that may have been because I was never in one place long enough.” 

“And why was that?”

“Lots of reasons.” 

_ Damn _ , Kazuma had been hoping that Yato’s preoccupation would make him let something slip. 

“Still, you’re doing really well. I  _ could  _ believe you’d been a restaurant manager before.” 

Yato beamed at him. “Really?” Kazuma nodded, amused at how happy the simple compliment had made him. “I hope it’s not a disaster, but I should probably get back to work, there’s  _ so  _ much to do. You’re welcome to help if you want to, it’s pretty fun!”

“Maybe later,” Kazuma said. 

Yato got to his feet and picked up a cooking knife, snatched up the nearest vegetable, and began chopping it deftly. Kazuma took a moment to take in the easy and confident way he handled a blade. He obviously had put a lot of work into cooking, yet another peculiar thing about him to file away. ‘Cooking’ wasn’t really a skill that Kazuma would associate with someone hiding a history of fighting for nefarious purposes. 

Which was all to say: Yato was a weird person.

Kazuma left the kitchen and turned down the hallway to where Hiyori and Kofuku stood waiting. 

“Well?” Hiyori prodded. 

“I think he’s  _ thriving _ ,” Kazuma said. 

“Really?” Kofuku asked. “I don’t really know what I was expecting, but I’m surprised somehow.” 

“Maybe he has the potential to be a leader, after all?” Hiyori suggested. 

“It was pretty chaotic in there, he has no idea how to delegate, but he at least has what seems to be a solid plan of action?” 

“So maybe that’s what we do, we go in there and help him. We can guide him a little and maybe he will pick up on some leadership qualities,” Hiyori suggested. 

“Do you… really think that could work?” 

“We could certainly try.”

* * *

The three of them walked together to the kitchen and offered their help to Yato, who seemed markedly more stressed than he had two minutes ago. 

“Sorry, yeah, um, can you guys just chop up vegetables? Like this,” he showed them his pile of chopped vegetables. “Just try to keep them around this size, if they’re too thick they won’t cook all the way and they’ll be soggy if they’re too thin.” 

“Is everything alright?” Hiyori asked. 

“Yeah, uh, it’s just a lot, and we might not have enough because the out of town vendors left yesterday, and this kitchen wasn’t built for this many people and we’re all tripping over each other but we need all hands on deck…” he trailed away. “It’s chaos, basically.”

“Want a little bit of advice?” 

“Gods, yes.” 

“You should try to streamline what everyone is doing.”

“Gee, thanks, hadn’t thought of that. I don’t know  _ how _ .” 

“Well luckily, I have a few ideas, so relax. What’s your biggest time waster right now?” 

“Um, probably the shuffling around each other, and bumping into each other, and people not being sure what to do.” 

“Okay, so assign each person  _ one  _ task, and give that task a station. They will keep doing that and it will cut back on the hubbub and keep them working more consistently.” 

“So, like, have a designated veggie cutting group, and a bread-making group?” 

“Yes.” 

Yato nodded, looking critically at the people around him. 

“Alright everyone stop!” He called. Everything came to a gradual halt and everyone turned to look at him. “I want Hiyori, Kazuma, and Kofuku on the table cutting veggies, and I want you three kneading bread dough while you three pan it and put it in the oven. I want you,” he pointed to the one remaining person, “to help me catalog everything we have right now so we know exactly what we need in what quantities.” 

Kazuma shot Hiyori an approving nod, and as she returned to the table where Kazuma and Kofuku were, Yato bustled away to start going through the pile of unsorted ingredients.

“What did you say to him?” 

“I just told him to give people running tasks and workstations, and then he really took charge.” 

“Well that’s good news.”

“He can run a kitchen. It doesn’t mean he can defeat the Sorcerer, but it at least means he isn’t completely useless,” Kazuma said. 

“Did you ever think he was?” Kofuku asked. Kazuma shook his head. “You watched them playing, right?” Her voice was so low she could barely be heard over the din in the kitchen. 

“There’s no doubt that he’s hiding a history of kung fu fighting, but we’re going to have to be very careful with how we go about finding out about his past. If there’s one thing his fight with Viina proved it’s that he can’t be intimidated through physical force.”

“Trying to threaten the truth out of him will probably only make him shut down harder, anyway,” Kofuku said. 

“We need to know who he is, but I don’t think there’s anything to do for it but wait, this isn’t a great situation for trust-building. He’s a prisoner,” Hiyori pointed out.

“He seems to be making the best of the situation, though,” Kazuma said, indicating Yato’s look of intense deliberation as he stared at a pile of ginger.

* * *

Yato woke up early that morning with a smile on his face. He was  _ excited _ . All his hard work for the past two days was about to pay off. His first ever charity lunch and he wanted  _ so  _ badly for it to go well. 

When he sat up Kazuma and Bishamon, his sitters for the night, turned his way. 

“Time already?” Kazuma asked. Last night they had transported all the ingredients to the kitchen in the valley that they had been lent, and he was going to head that way early to begin preparations. 

“Sure is, which one of you is going to take me?” Yato asked. 

“I will,” Kazuma said. “Viina will come down later with the others.” 

“Great,” Yato said, climbing to his feet, “because I definitely can’t make it down those stairs on my own.” Even as he said it, he put weight on his injured ankle and stumbled a little. Kazuma sighed. 

“You just  _ had  _ to provoke Yukine.”

“Yup, I sure did, glad we cleared that up.” 

Kazuma got to his feet and wrapped an arm around Yato, taking some of his weight so he could walk more easily. 

There were two flights of stairs between Yato and the ground floor, and then a seemingly infinite number of stairs between him and the valley where their charity meal would be taking place. He took the stairs in the Jade Palace relatively well. Kazuma was there to help him and it wasn’t so bad. After crossing the grounds and taking two more flights of stairs down the mountain, though, he was gritting his teeth just to avoid whimpering with every step. Kazuma watched him struggle to maintain a straight face for half a flight before stopping both of them. 

“Alright, that’s enough.”

“What?” Yato asked, voice strained. 

“You can’t make it down like this, I’m going to have to carry you or Hiyori will kill me.” 

“How fortunate, getting swept off my feet by a boy as cute as you.”

“Hardly,” Kazuma scoffed. He crouched down and Yato snickered, climbing onto his back. 

“This is  _ much  _ less romantic.”

“Good.” 

Yato sighed and rested his head on Kazuma’s shoulder, closing his eyes against the throbbing pain in his ankle. It wouldn’t kill him to ask for help once in a while, and yet. 

“Thanks, Kazuma.” 

“Oh, sure thing,” he replied, sounding surprised. “We’ve all been really impressed with how well you handled this. I think we all expected the meal to be a bit of a disaster.” 

“Well it’s not done yet, so don’t count that out,” Yato said lightly. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“You said you’ve worked at a lot of restaurants, though. You probably know what to do better than you think you do.” 

“That’s what Hiyori said. I hope you’re right. I’m excited to see my friends again too.” 

“Friends?”

“The other homeless people in the village, they helped me out a lot when I first got to town, remember? I’m looking forward to seeing them again.” 

“I didn’t know you considered them friends.” 

“I’ve only been in town for a few weeks, so I don’t know them really well, but they’re really good people. I’m glad I get to do something for them in return for their help. One meal isn’t much but it’s the best I can do right now.” 

“I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.” 

“I hope they’re doing alright.” 

“It’s only been a few days, I’m sure they’re fine.”

“A lot can happen on the street in a few days, Kazuma.” 

He nodded. “Well, you’ll be able to talk to them and find out today.” Yato nodded.

* * *

They ended up having to find a stool for Yato to sit on while he cooked, though Kazuma was unable to stop him from hopping around on one foot to get things rather than just asking Kazuma for them. Meanwhile, he jabbered about cooking, explaining different dishes, herbs, how to make a flavor combination that people would enjoy, and all of it went over Kazuma’s head. Yato, however, seemed to know exactly what he was talking about and was deeply passionate about it. 

It was interesting to see Yato in his element, spreading his wings and allowing himself to flourish. Kazuma discovered that when Yato wasn’t rightfully angry about being held captive he actually had quite a positive attitude. This made Kazuma feel even worse about their situation, but it didn’t change his mind. Optimistic or not, Yato was definitely hiding a background in combat, and Kazuma needed to get to the bottom of that if he were to ever trust the man who was apparently destined to defeat the Sorcerer. 

Once the sun started to rise Yato’s kitchen workers filtered in one by one and he put them to work. Things were going much more smoothly than they were the day that Kazuma had observed them in the palace kitchen. Yato really seemed to have found his groove. 

Kofuku arrived once the sun had risen fully with the rest of the Striking Six in tow. They gathered in the courtyard out of the way to finalize their game plan for the day before heading out to their projects. 

“You’re like a real chef, Yato!” Kofuku chimed as Yato gave instructions from his place in front of the fire. Once Kazuma was gone Yato got back to his feet, too impatient to wait for people to bring him what he needed. 

“I always wanted to be one, but I never stayed in one place long enough for a promotion.”

“Well, I think you could have managed it! Maybe if your Dragon Warrior thing doesn’t work out you can run the palace kitchen, that way you can still flirt with Hiyori.” She winked exaggeratedly and Yato laughed. 

“That’s one plan alright,” Yato said lightly.

* * *

Kofuku would have volunteered for babysitting even if she were allowed to participate in the rest of the event. There was something revealing about watching a person do something they were confident in. To her, it seemed like the layers of bravado were pulled away, leaving only the bare soul. Considering her suspicion of him, watching Yato run a kitchen, too busy to worry about keeping up his idiot pretense, would make for the perfect opportunity for her to make what observations of him she would. 

First, she noticed his awareness of everything going on around him. He ducked deftly out of the way of a woman carrying a large pot full of extremely hot curry and didn’t miss a step. A man reached around him to grab a ladle and Yato leaned out of his way without even looking up. And perhaps the most impressive, he unthinkingly caught a pot that someone passing behind him dropped, alerted only by her cry of alarm, then tried to play it off like it was the most impressive luck he’d ever had.

Second, was the way his hands handled the knives. Of course, this  _ could  _ have come with years of cooking experience, but the way his fingers effortlessly twirled a knife when he wasn’t paying attention spoke to her of more than culinary expertise. 

She would have missed the third thing if she hadn’t been paying so much attention. The flash in his expression when raised voices echoed in through the courtyard and Yato’s eyes cut up to see what was going on, suddenly and briefly deadly. When his gaze landed on a pair of men arguing over cutting in line his face hardened, and Kofuku focused hard to see the darkness in Yato’s barely perceptible aura flare for just a moment before he quashed it down and fixed a patient smile onto his features. 

Yato left the kitchen and Kofuku followed at a distance. She didn’t fail to notice the way Yato hadn’t set down his knife, and that his grip on it was now much more suited to slicing than dicing. Kofuku drew one of her fans and rested it gently against her playful smile, hanging back just enough to be present, but out of the way. 

“Tamazuki, Ledo, may I help you?” Yato asked in an overly cheerful voice when he approached the pair. Kofuku raised an eyebrow, wondering how Yato knew these men. 

“What the hell do you want?” The bigger one growled. He turned annoyed eyes onto Yato, taking in his apron and kitchen knife. “What, they hired a bum to cook the meal?” The man scoffed. 

Ah, a bully. 

“I was just wondering what all the commotion was about, Tamazuki.”

“He cut in line,” the other man- Ledo offered. 

“Yeah, well I’m hungry, and I’ll do what I want.” 

“All these other people are hungry too, Tamazuki, and I can assure you that I’ve prepared more than enough food for everyone. It will still be here if you wait for your turn. Perhaps you should do that.” 

When Kofuku heard the ice in his tone she realized Yato must not know she was watching. She must have been imagining things, however, because it seemed for a second that his breath had turned to mist, which was impossible because it was already shaping up to be a very warm day. Still, something had unnerved the man Yato was speaking too, and he lingered for only a moment more before storming to the end of the line. Kofuku wished she’d been at a better angle to see the expression that had affected him so. 

“Nice, Yato! You sure have a way about yourself,” Ledo said, patting him on the back. “How are they treating you up at the palace? I couldn’t help but notice your limp, and don’t tell me that the  _ Dragon Warrior  _ has nothing better to do than cook a free meal.” Yato shrugged. 

“It was a training accident, no big deal, but I can’t train on this ankle, and the community outreach program was today anyway,” he shrugged again. 

“Well, I’m glad to know it’s going to be good at least, last year’s meal was a bit rough.” 

“Speaking of, I should probably get back in there,” Yato gestured over his shoulder, bringing the man’s attention to Kofuku. His eyes widened dramatically as he recognized her. 

“M-master Viper, it’s an honor!” He said, bowing slightly. 

Kofuku nodded politely but kept her eyes trained on Yato, watching his shoulders stiffen as he turned to face her with a too-tight smile. 

“Kofuku, how long have you been there?”

“I followed you out,” she trilled. Yato grimaced, looking like this had been the answer he was expecting. “Impressive how you dealt with that guy.” 

“Oh, Yato here’s a pro of dealing with assholes,” Ledo said, throwing an arm proudly around Yato’s shoulders, jostling him so he stumbled on his hurt leg. “Oh, sorry.” 

Kofuku saw the briefest flash of annoyance cross Yato’s face before his lips smoothed into a smile again. 

“Oh, you know, a long time working in customer service will do that for you,” he chuckled and scratched the back of his head awkwardly. 

“Right, well, I won’t keep the two of you, I’m sure you’ve got important work,” Ledo cast Yato another sly grin and Yato grinned back, genuinely. 

He returned to the kitchen and started working again, though he stumbled and nearly caused a collision on his way like he was trying to make Kofuku forget his moment of competence. Interesting. 

The next noteworthy thing that Kofuku noticed was the change that came over Yato when a group of four people wandered into the courtyard an hour later. The lunch crowd had started to dwindle slightly and the rest of the Striking Six sat in a corner eating and chatting together. Yato practically came to attention when a pretty girl in ratty clothes walked in, accompanied by three other people in similar states of dress. They kept glancing around like they were looking for something, peering at the Six in particular. 

“Kiki!” Yato cried, throwing up his hand. 

Several heads turned, including the Six, who all watched, baffled as Yato leaped over the counter and crashed to the ground on the other side. He rolled to his feet like nothing happened and hopped excitedly into the extended arms of his friend, covered in dirt from his fall. 

“Yato!” She exclaimed. “It’s so good to see you!”

“How have you been?” Yato asked, glowing as he pulled away from her to hug her companions. “All of you?” 

“Alright, things have been quiet, mostly. A few drunks, the usual.” Yato nodded. 

Kofuku exited the kitchen and approached the group, standing slightly back with the rest of the Six, who had all approached and were waiting for an introduction, fascinated to meet the people Yato had shown so much excitement for and potentially to see what Yato was like around people he was more comfortable with. 

“And Gramps?” 

The girl, Kiki’s, face fell. “He’s doing bad. We couldn’t get him up.” 

Yato’s shoulders stiffened and he nodded tightly. 

“I understand. Do you think-”

“It’s a hard life for an old man. We want to try to make him comfortable, but we can’t afford any medicine.” Yato closed his eyes briefly. 

“I’m sorry,” Hiyori said, stepping forward, “who?” Yato’s eyes lit when they landed on her. 

“Oh, right! Hiyori, this is Kiki, Ayame, Ginta, and Sano, guys these are the Striking Six,” he said with a half-laugh, “I presume they need no introduction but they’re Hiyori, Yukine, Kofuku, Daikoku, Kazuma, and Bishamon.” There was a round of short and polite greetings.

“You said someone needed medicine?” Hiyori asked again. Kiki and the others exchanged furtive glances. 

“It’s alright, Hiyori has medical training. She patched up my ankle after a training accident and everything!” He held his leg aloft and gestured to it dramatically. 

Kiki looked from the appendage to Yato, then finally to Hiyori. 

“It’s the old man in the abandoned mill. No one knows his name, so we just call him Gramps. He’s been out here longer than any of us and he’s always taken care of everyone. A few days ago, he started getting sick, and none of us can afford a doctor.” 

Hiyori nodded grimly. “Well, I’ve finished eating so I can head over there and see what I can do.” 

Yato’s face lit up. “I’ll go with you; I was planning on taking him some food anyway.” Yato turned to his friends, “I’ll be back later, you guys eat as much as you like, it’s free, and it’s good,” he winked. 

“Come on, Hiyori. The kitchen staff can run things on their own while I’m gone.” Yato limped over to the serving table and fixed a plate for the old man, then kissed Kiki and Ayame on the cheek before he headed out with Hiyori. 

“A training accident?” Hiyori asked, sounding amused. 

“They all think I’ve moved on to a better life, no need for them to know I’m being held prisoner and getting roughed up by the jailors,” Yato said shortly, ducking into a back alley. “Come on, this way is faster.” 

Hiyori followed Yato’s lead, amazed by how he seemed to be more familiar with the streets of her own town than she was. Then again, he had a vastly different experience with it than she did, and she spent all her time in the Jade Palace. 

“Here,” Yato said, indicating an old mill whose roof was falling in. He paused at the off-hinges door and knocked twice. “Gramps, you in here? It’s Yato.” 

Faint coughing answered and Yato ducked in without further ado. 

“Gramps? I brought food.”

“Yato? Is that you? The others told me you had left?”

Hiyori laid eyes on an ancient man nestled with obvious care on a blanket in the squalor of the ramshackle mill. 

“I got a job at the Jade Palace; they provide room and board.”

“Good for you, son, but who is this with you?”

“This is Master Crane; her name is Hiyori. She’s come with me to see if you’re well because she’s trained as a doctor. I brought food; do you think you’re strong enough to eat?” The old man nodded feebly. 

Yato passed Hiyori the plate and helped the old man sit up, supporting his back while Hiyori sat forward and helped the man feed himself. 

“When’s the last time you ate, sir?” 

“I think the kids brought me some bread the day before yesterday.” 

Yato hid his wince. Likely it was all they had been able to scavenge and the rest of them had gone hungry but being unable to have enough to eat was likely worsening Gramp’s condition. 

“I see, and when was the last time you used the restroom?” 

“I-I’m not sure.” Yato met Hiyori’s eyes and knew from her expression that Gramps would likely never get up from this place again. 

His jaw clenched as he forced a smile, turning back to Gramps. 

“Hiyori here is amazing, she’s going to do everything that she can for you, alright Gramps?” 

“I appreciate it, Master Crane, and thank you, Yato, for bringing her.”

“It was no problem, you helped me when I first got to the Valley of Peace, remember? We look after each other out here. You’ll be up and about in no time.” 

Gramps smiled sadly. “I’m an old man, son, I know that I’m not long for this world. My only worry is for the others, and what will happen to them when I’m gone. Take care of them, won’t you?” Yato took Gramp’s hands and nodded solemnly. 

“I will. Of course.” 

Yato and Hiyori helped Gramps lay back down carefully, tucking him in to keep him as warm as they could before leaving him there to rest. Once they were outside the hut Yato pulled Hiyori towards the riverbank where the flow of water would muffle their words. 

“How long?” 

“Days, I can send some medicine to make him more comfortable, but I’d be surprised if he makes it to the end of the week.” 

Yato nodded grimly. “Let me tell the others.”

“Of course,” Hiyori nodded.

* * *

When Yato entered the courtyard, face grim, a current of grief passed through the group before he’d even spoken. Yato sat down, speaking quietly to convey the bad news. Kazuma watched their faces all settle into resignation and sadness. Kiki’s shoulders started to shake and Yato placed a comforting hand on her back as Ginta rubbed his eyes tiredly. If any words were spoken after that Kazuma couldn’t hear them, not that he needed too to read the tragedy on their faces.

Not long after that the rest of them had to return to their jobs, leaving only Yato and Kofuku at the restaurant, though Kofuku blended into the background, giving the grieving family space and privacy. 

“What are we supposed to do without him?” Kiki asked feebly. 

Yato’s heart panged with sympathy, as sad as he was now, he couldn’t imagine how the others were feeling, having known Gramps for years. 

“The best you can,” he offered lamely. 

“I mean I knew he was old, but I guess I just wasn’t expecting this. He’s been around forever, it was almost like he was going to outlive all of us,” Ginta said. A saddened chuckle of agreement passed around the table. 

“He saved all of us, how are we ever going to live up to that?” Sano asked, fists clenched on the table in front of him. 

“After my village was attacked by The Hollow, he fished me out of the river and nursed me back to health,” Kiki said. 

Yato froze at the mention of himself. He’d caught glimpses of her scars during his time on the street with her, but he’d never given them much thought before. And to think now, he was to blame, had maybe even given them to her himself…

“I was cut all to hell and on death’s door, but he saved me like it was nothing, like anyone would have done it.” 

Yato was having a hard time keeping his breathing steady. He’d hurt so many people, ruined so many lives, but this was different. To bond with someone and  _ then  _ find out he was responsible for ruining their life… He choked but managed to pass it off as a cough. 

“It’s the same with me,” Ginta said, and Yato’s chest tightened so painfully he nearly cried out. “My village was taken by bandits, Gramps saved me when he found me wandering the woods, starving.” 

Yato tried not to breathe a sigh of relief. It had only been ordinary bandits.

“All of us were running from something terrible when Gramps found us and showed us kindness. I can’t imagine life without him,” Ayame said. 

Yato nodded silently, not trusting himself to speak.

The group sat in quiet mourning for several more minutes before they all stood and filed out to spend what was left of Gramp’s life with him. Yato was left alone at their table, shoulders heavy. 

Kofuku stood in awkward silence, observing Yato and the sadness he so plainly wore now. It was the most open she’d ever seen him, and she couldn’t help but feel a bit helpless. 

“I’m sorry, Yato,” She tried. Yato didn’t seem to hear her, he was staring at the place where his friends had disappeared. 

“He saved all of us…” His face twisted into something ugly and broken before he threw his shoulders back and tilted his chin up, face smoothing back into calm. “I still need to help in the kitchen.” He walked away before she could say anything else. 

Kofuku cast a grim look at his back before following. 

Kofuku sat atop two large stacked radish crates, watching Yato with concerned eyes. He worked with much the same determination as he had that morning, but his shoulders held a definite slump. She was surprised by how false his cheerful lilt sounded those times he actually spoke. He’d withdrawn and taken to responding to most questions with a curt nod or shake of his head.

Kazuma stopped by to get Yato early, while the kitchen crew was still cleaning up and the rest of the Six were still working because he would take a long time to get up the endless stairs. Yato was secretly glad of this, he wanted to flee the valley and the information he’d just learned. On top of that, he wanted to cook a nice dinner for the Six who had no doubt worked up a big appetite after working all day, and seeing happy faces would make him feel a bit better.

Yato bit his lip hard as Kofuku and Kazuma helped him up the stairs. They’d made no attempts at conversation, correctly reading his stormy expression as a desire to be left alone. So, he brooded while they climbed, thinking about Gramps, and his recent revelations about Kiki and the others. 

He wondered which village she’d lived in, though no doubt he’d never remember her even if he knew. His mind was filled with the image of her smiling face as she handed him a piece of barely stale bread, her own meal for the day, and welcomed him to town. That was the day she took him to meet Gramps, who’d been much better off back then, able to walk with assistance. He’d caught glimpses of many of her scars in the time they’d spent together. Slashes on her arm, gouges from her calf, and something long and twisted that he only ever saw in flashes along her stomach. Which ones had he caused? All of them? 

His mind conjured an image of her clinging to a fractured piece of wood in the river, her life pouring into the water around her as the current dragged her away from her home and he choked. 

“Yato?” Kazuma asked, looking concerned. Yato tried to say he was fine, but his voice came out only as a tortured cry. He gasped, then whimpered, missing a step in his distraction. “Here, let me carry you,” Kazuma said. Yato took a few quick halting breaths and nodded, reminding himself to be nicer to Kazuma to thank him for pretending to think that he was crying because of his ankle. 

Yato took very deliberate and slow breaths as Kazuma carried him up the remainder of the stairs, determined to be the master of his own emotions before they reached the top. He succeeded, to an extent. At least he was able to request that Kazuma carry him to the kitchen without his voice breaking. 

Kazuma complied with some amount of surprise, but carried him into the kitchen and set him down in a chair. 

“Thanks, Kazuma. I’ll be alright to walk on it a little now, don’t worry.” 

Kazuma gave him a skeptical look, but nodded and sat down, confirming Yato’s suspicion that Kazuma knew he hadn’t been crying out of physical pain earlier. Though, after a long day of being on his feet, it  _ was  _ throbbing painfully. Not badly enough to not cook dinner, though he may  _ actually  _ need to be carried to his room. Oh well, it’s not like he was too proud for that anymore. 

So Yato set about cooking a large dinner for the Striking Six, chasing that feeling of approval that he needed so badly after the day he’d had. He was almost worried that he’d prepared too much, but then resolved that if there were any leftovers he could ask that they be sent down to his friends when the medicine was taken, thereby complying with the promise he’d made to Gramps that he would take care of the others. 

The Striking Six got back about an hour and a half after Yato did and they all wore awed expressions as they filed into the kitchen, no doubt expecting leftovers from the morning meal. 

“You’re just in time, the food’s almost ready!” Yato said, hopping from one side of the kitchen to another after a particularly painful throb in his ankle. 

“Well then you’ll have no problem sitting and letting me finish it up,” Hiyori said sternly, guiding Yato into a chair. “You’ve done too much on your feet today.” Yato smiled apologetically, but Hiyori just patted the top of his head. 

When he turned back to the table to see the rest of the Six looking at him with pity, he took a bracing breath to prepare for what was about to come. 

“Yato, Hiyori told us about your friend, we were all sorry to hear about his condition,” Daikoku said. 

“Me too. He helped me a lot. He helped everyone he could. He nursed Kiki back to health after the Hollow nearly killed her.” 

“Wow,” Kofuku said. “I didn’t know that about your friend.”

“Neither did I, she told me today,” Yato said, looking deeply troubled by the information. 

Kazuma took in the furious set of Yato’s jaw and the deep regret in his face. He wondered what exactly was going on in his head. Everyone reacted to grief differently so he couldn’t discount this being a normal reaction to loss for Yato, or was it something else? No matter what the answer to that was- he reminded himself he shouldn’t be psychoanalyzing Yato when he was clearly going through a lot and could probably use a friend. 

“We were all running from something when Gramps found us, he never turned anyone away, and he never asked questions. There’s no telling how many people he helped. Truly, the Valley will be worse off without him.”

“I’m sorry that there’s nothing I could do for him,” Hiyori said as she began serving the meal Yato had prepared.

“You’re doing enough, Hiyori. Easing his passing  _ is  _ something. Plenty of people don’t get that blessing,” he said bitterly. The taste of blood filled his mouth, he knew better than anyone what an ugly death looked like. 

“Did you know Gramps well?” Daikoku asked. 

“Not as well as the others, I haven’t been here as long. I wish there were something I could do for them,” Yato buried his face in his hands, remembering Kiki’s scars. 

_ You’ve done enough.  _


	5. 4- Brave Enough

Hiyori watched carefully while Yato fussed at Kazuma for wearing his shirt incorrectly, though it seemed like it was just an excuse to undo his top and flirt. Kazuma shot Hiyori a look that was equal parts annoyed and relieved as she stood pointedly out of the way, condemning him to be prodded. He was allowing this show because Yato’s aura was calm at last, no longer crying out in despair. Once again, they could not read his emotions, but he seemed to be in a better mood. Perhaps the success of his charity lunch had settled in once again. 

“Alright, Yato,” Hiyori interrupted, deigning to save Kazuma, “today I’m going to teach you a few basic stretches while you work on the breathing Kazuma taught you a few days ago.”

“Hey, what’s that?” Yato asked, derailing the lesson before it had even started. He pointed over Kazuma’s shoulder to a long thin bundle leaning against the wall. 

“It’s a matching set Tenjin just bought for the palace. A katana and wakizashi I think,” Kazuma answered, tucking his shirt back around himself. 

Alarm screamed up Yato’s back. That was too much of a coincidence, right? Tenjin purchasing a set of the exact weapons he fought with right after he came to stay here couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? 

Kazuma narrowed his eyes at the flare in Yato’s aura. What had  _ that  _ been about?

“Can we  _ please _ get back to the lesson?” 

Yato shook himself. 

“Bet I’m better than Kazuma!” He taunted, attempting to maintain his casual demeanor despite the weapons hanging like a threat in the corner of his eye. “I’m really flexible.” 

“Everyone is better at stretches than Kazuma,” Hiyori teased.

“Not everyone in the world can do a backbend and roll away like some weird human wheel,” Kazuma retorted. 

“Ah, yes, and you’re one of the few who can’t.” 

“Gladly.” 

“You won’t be saying that when you need to roll away from a dangerous situation.” 

“I can escape danger without eating dirt, thank you very much.”

“But it’s so much more fun if you do.”

“You have a very strange definition of the word fun, Hiyori.” 

Yato looked on, chuckling at their easy banter. 

“What’s so funny, Yato?” Kazuma asked. 

“You guys, none of you are what I expected you to be. Well, except Tigress. She was pretty much  _ exactly  _ what I expected her to be.” 

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Hiyori asked. 

“I’ll let you know,” Yato replied easily. 

“Alright, let’s get back on task. Stretching. Lean over and touch your toes if you can.” 

Yato did as he was told, touching his toes easily, letting out one long breath. It wouldn’t be suspicious if he were flexible, lots of people outside of fighting were, and he wanted to show off a bit. Maybe they’d think he’d run away from a circus, that would be cool. 

“You really are flexible, not everyone can do that on their first try.” Yato winked at her and she rolled her eyes. “Alright, now stand with your feet shoulder-width apart and grab your right ankle.” 

They spent a peaceful hour or so working on stretches before Hiyori stood up and shook her limbs out. 

“Have you ever done any of this before?”

“Maybe,” Yato replied mysteriously, smirking when she gave him an amused look. 

“So, you’ll tell us about your on again off again boyfriend, but not your exercise regimen?” Kazuma asked. 

“Some things are too personal,” Yato moaned dramatically. Hiyori laughed while Kazuma shook his head in exasperation. “But I could talk about my boyfriend, well my  _ ex  _ right now, for  _ hours _ .” 

“We were all surprised when you talked about him the other night, you’re so tight-lipped about everything else.”

“Well, you asked the right questions.”

“You said you didn’t like the man he worked for, who is that?” 

“That is a wrong question,” Yato said simply. 

“That’s fine,” Hiyori replied, shooting Kazuma a warning look, “what kinds of things would you two do together?” 

_ Yato looked in the direction of the guttural scream just in time to see Rabo’s most recent victim fall to the ground in pieces. Rabo’s eyes found his across the carnage and he smiled, pale face splattered with blood. His eyes shifted to something behind Yato and Yato drove his sword back into the chest of an attacker without looking. He heard the wet sounds of blood filling lungs before the dull thud of a body hitting the ground. Rabo nodded once and started running.  _

_ Yato turned and tore across the viscera strewn field towards his partner, halting in front of him. They stood facing each other for several seconds before Rabo reached out and yanked Yato in for a fiery kiss.  _

“Oh, you know,” Yato said, shaking the memory away, “normal couple stuff.”

“Care to elaborate?” Kazuma asked. 

“I think you know the answer to that.” 

“Is there anything you  _ will  _ tell us?” 

“I was thinking of making pot pies tonight.”

* * *

“Your feet are too close together,” Hiyori said, nudging them farther apart with her toes. 

Yato bit back his smile, he was rather enjoying his lesson with Hiyori. She was much kinder and gentler than his  _ last  _ teacher. 

“Your hands are too far apart,” Kazuma said, standing back with his arms crossed, watching appraisingly. 

Yato brought his fists closer together, in a position he knew was still wrong. His eyes widened when he felt Hiyori come close and wrap her arms around him. 

“Like this,” she said, voice sending shivers down his spine. 

Yato was certain she could feel his heartbeat as she gently corrected his posture. Kazuma chuckled lightly at his expression but thankfully didn’t comment.

“Alright,” Yato said, grateful beyond words that his voice came out normally. 

“Your feet are your base, if your base is weak it’s easier to knock you down, and if you get knocked down, you’ll be vulnerable.” 

“I’m already vulnerable because I have zero fighting skills, or have you forgotten my ass kickings from the other day.” 

“I haven’t forgotten,” Hiyori said, voice still patient, “I’m trying to make you better for the next time someone attacks you. You said villagers like to pick on the homeless, wouldn’t you like to defend yourself against the next group of drunkards that decides you’re a target?” Yato sighed, then nodded. 

She corrected his position in a few more places before moving on. Normally he’d be taught how to use these stances to attack or defend, but she was adhering strictly to her rule of ‘no exertion’. Not that Yato was complaining, every now and then she would draw close to correct him and his heart would stutter. It had been a long time since he’d gotten butterflies. They were nice. Before he knew it, the lunch bell rang, and Hiyori was asking him to have lunch with her in the gardens. Kazuma disappeared to eat with Bishamon and Yato found himself giddy at the prospect of spending an hour alone with Hiyori.

* * *

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not, I swear.”

“You must think I’m stupid. There’s no way I’m believing that.” 

“I’m telling the truth!” Hiyori laughed, “Yukine is called Monkey because on like his third day here he fell out of a tree and onto Tenjin’s head!” Yato snorted with laughter ignoring the protest of his bruised sides. 

“And you just never let it go?” 

“Not even for a second! He  _ hates  _ the name, but nothing else he’s tried has caught on. I think he was hoping to be named the Dragon Warrior just so we’d all stop calling him Monkey.” 

Yato fell back onto the grass, clutching his stomach and wheezing as he pictured Tenjin being taken out by a tiny blonde boy falling from a tree. 

“That is the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard,” Yato gasped. “I’d assumed your names were given in relation to your fighting styles because of you and Kofuku.” Hiyori chuckled. 

“Ours are, but not poor Yukine.” Yato took a few steadying breaths, throwing his arms over his eyes to shade them from the sun, a broad grin still stretching his lips. 

“I’m  _ so  _ glad you told me.”

“Oh, please don’t give him too hard a time about it. He has a temper problem and I don’t want him to hurt you.” 

“Don’t worry,” Yato replied, “I’ll only tease him when you’re around to save me.”

“I never knew you were such a damsel in distress type,” she joked.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, maybe I grew up in a circus.” Hiyori laughed again. 

“What, were you a jester?”

“Maybe I was the ringmaster.” 

“A child ringmaster? Now that’s a circus I’d pay to see. I don’t know why you’d ever leave; it would be the perfect job for you.” 

“They didn’t pay me enough.” 

Hiyori laughed again.“I hate to break it to you, but there isn’t much money in kung fu either,” Hiyori said, laying down beside him. 

“Not much money in kung fu?” Yato asked incredulously, gesturing around the palace grounds. “You have an entire room made of jade!”

“Well, technically it’s made of malachite and aventurine-” 

“Oh, I feel so lied too,” Yato said sardonically. 

“Okay, okay, I get your point. We have more than plenty.” 

“Thank you,” Yato said. 

He crossed his legs and looked back down at his splinted ankle. It had done a good job of keeping up with him, though it did ache slightly from overuse. 

Yato turned to Hiyori and smiled. Her company brought him a sense of safety that drew out a question he feared would show too much of his hand. 

“Why do you fight if you have medical training? You could have been a doctor.” 

He would have killed to be able to heal people rather than hurt them, but perhaps that was part of the problem. Hiyori thought for a moment before answering. 

“I wanted to make the world a better place.” 

“But doctors do that, and they don’t have to hurt people.” 

Hiyori nodded carefully. 

“I understand where you’re coming from, especially with what you’re going through right now. Doctors help people, sure, but growing up I saw a lot of pain and suffering. There was one thing that always bothered me, though: no matter how many people my father helped there was always more. More death and suffering and hurt. I watched my father do a  _ lot  _ of cleaning other people’s messes and mending broken things, and I always wished we could stop the suffering before it started. 

“I had no idea how I could do that until I was ten and a nearby village was attacked. All at once it seemed like my father’s hospital exploded and there were hundreds of people, screaming and bleeding and dying. It was chaos, you could hardly walk through the halls for all the people in the building, and beyond that, there were even more people collapsing on the lawn. It took weeks to mop up all the blood. But between the crying and screaming, there were snatches of gratitude, people were praising a savior who stopped the attack from being worse, who had saved all their lives. A fighter from the Jade Palace stopped the entire village from being slaughtered. I knew that day what I wanted to do, how I wanted to save people.” 

“To save people, huh…” 

All the time he’d spent as the bad guy had blinded him to the possibility. The savagery of his past had overshadowed the potentially benevolent intentions of his foes. Yato was brutal and bloody and deadly, but Hiyori was gentle and fierce and kind, and he’d seen her fight and she was  _ good _ . She was proof that all that Father said was impossible was possible, and it set his soul on fire. He knew he had no right to hope for such things, but just being near her made him feel like he was capable of change. 

“As a member of the Striking Six, I have prevented more tragedy than I could have ever hoped to remedy as a doctor. I’ve stopped massacres that would have flooded hospitals with more patients than they could help, and best of all, I’ve inspired little girls everywhere to grow up and be badasses.”

Yato stared at her for a long time. She pretended not to notice, turning her gaze up to the clear blue sky. Hiyori had built a life undoing the evils people like Yato committed. Sitting here in the shade next to the light of her scorching conviction Yato felt like he might burn away. He was flying too close to the sun on wings of wax and relished the idea of being destroyed by something so pure. He’d always imagined that he would die as he’d lived, in the dark, but suddenly perishing in the light didn’t sound so bad. 

“Hiyori… you’re… amazing.” 

She laughed. “I don’t know about that. I’m not like the others. They all learned to fight from necessity, they’ve endured so much. Sometimes I feel like I’m not worthy to fight by their sides, I’m just some girl who decided one day that she wanted to fight.”

“That’s even more amazing, though!” Yato insisted, sitting up and looking down at her. “You had the option to live a peaceful life, and you still chose to fight to protect innocent people. That’s so amazing. I’ve only ever done anything for myself.” 

“It’s not too late to change that,” Hiyori said. His breath caught as she hit him right where he was softest.

“I don’t know about that,” he whispered.  _ You’d never be saying that to me if you knew what I’ve done. _

“Well I do, and I believe that you can become what you want to be.” 

Yato continued to avoid her gaze. “Who says what I want to be is good?”

“I have faith.” 

He stared at her for a long time, trying to detect a lie, but found none. 

“Why?” He asked eventually. 

“Because Crane’s are very good judges of character.” Her sudden cheekiness after a serious moment caught him off guard and he barked out a surprised laugh. 

“You’re making that up.” 

“Am not! It’s true! When have you ever known a crane to be wrong about a person?”

“I’ve never known a crane! Birds fly away when they see people!”

“Exactly! People eat birds! That’s why they run because they know a person might eat them!” Yato plopped back onto the grass, laughing still, and following Hiyori’s gaze to the sky. 

“You’re so weird.”

“ _ I’m  _ weird? You’re the one who grew up in a circus!”

“That’s mean! Circuses are cool! And I didn’t  _ really _ , I was just saying I  _ could  _ have.”

“When’s the last time you went to a circus? They’re really only cool when you’re a kid.” 

“Actually, I’ve never been to one, I’ve just always wanted to. They, uh, didn’t come around to where I grew up.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. One comes to the village all the time, maybe we could take you!”

“Oh, so Tenjin allows his prisoners to go on field trips, does he?” Yato asked, sounding more bitter than he’d meant too. 

“He  _ did  _ let you do the charity lunch,” she said softly. “...I’m sorry about all of this. If I could let you go I would. I know how badly you want to be free.”

“You’re just following orders, I get it,” Yato said. He’d done  _ far  _ worse things that he hadn’t wanted to do because he’d been ordered too, after all. It wasn’t fair to hold Hiyori to a separate standard than himself. 

“It isn’t right!” She continued, sitting up in a huff. “How can we call ourselves the good guys if we go around kidnapping people?” Yato looked up at her with interest, thinking she’d had this argument with herself before. “What is Master Tenjin thinking, keeping you here?” She glanced down at Yato and seemed surprised by his relaxed demeanor. 

“You’re a good person,” he said, surprising her even more. 

“I’m holding you hostage,” she said, sounding horrified by the thought. 

“No,  _ Tenjin _ is holding me hostage. You’ve done nothing but try and make me feel welcome.” Hiyori sagged. 

“I  _ should  _ be helping you escape; it’d be the right thing to do.” 

“Perhaps in the short run it would feel better.” 

Yato and Hiyori jumped, spinning around to see Tenjin standing over them. Yato cursed. He hadn’t noticed his approach. Curse this palace and all these masters of concealing themselves.

“Master Tenjin!” Hiyori cried, leaping to her feet, and bowing. “Forgive my impertinence.” Yato remained seated. 

“What do you mean ‘in the short run?’” Yato asked impertinently. 

“Right now, it would be easier to simply let you go, it’s what you want, it’s what the others want, but it’s not what the universe is telling me to do.”

“The universe is tellin’ you to take hostages?” 

Hiyori looked nervously between the two but remained silent. 

“The universe told me you have some greater part in this, that you have some  _ hidden  _ talent or skills,” Tenjin said meaningfully. 

Yato tensed, teeth bared. The piercing look Tenjin was giving him raised his hackles and told him to run.  _ He knows _ , Yato thought. His entire being was screaming, but his rationale was saying there was no way Tenjin knew. If Tenjin knew he’d be dead, but the swords in the training room hung in his mind like a ghost.

“The universe told me you were valuable, and I listened. Sure, it would be easier to ignore it and send you on your merry way, but what happens when The Sorcerer decides to execute whatever he’s planning?”

“He’ll win whether I’m here to stop him or not.”  _ He always does. _

“You sound pretty sure of that.”

“Maybe I’m a pessimist.” 

“As hard as it is to swallow it’s best for you to stay here until we figure out what you’re supposed to be doing in this war.” 

“What I’m  _ supposed  _ to be doing?” Yato challenged, rising angrily to his feet. “I’m  _ supposed  _ to be able to do what I want because I’m a living being with free will! I’m not some toy of yours and the universe’s to play with! What the hell are you playing at, trying to force some random dude into fighting your fight for you?”

“But you’re not just some random dude, are you?” Yato froze, all the heat in his body vaporizing. “You’re the Dragon Warrior.” Disgust rushed in the void his anger had left. 

“You’re fucking crazy, Old Man,” Yato growled. He turned and stormed away into the bamboo thicket. 

His blood was still rushing from the false alarms as he fumed about the encounter. How dare that guy try to tell him what he was meant to do. What a lunatic. The universe had a job for him? What a joke. If the universe wanted anything from him it was ceaseless destruction and murder, and he had no intention of doing  _ that  _ if he could help it either. 

He decided then that he was getting out of there, right now. 

He crouched low to the ground and moved silently through the patchy sunlight, using what Kazuma had taught him to suppress his emotions, knowing that he was virtually undetectable if he could keep his feelings under control. When his emotions winked out Hiyori shouted in alarm, knowing that he was making another break for it. Yato started moving faster, his outfit was black, which would provide him with a bit of cover, and he remembered Hiyori saying this thicket went back almost all the way to the boundary wall. 

The bamboo stopped suddenly and for a moment Yato thought he’d reached the edge of the thicket before he processed his surroundings. He stood in the middle of a clearing with a maple tree and a leg of the creek and was transfixed by how peaceful this place felt before shouting snapped him out of his trance. Hiyori’s aura had vanished during his moment of distraction and he knew she was pursuing him. It was all the reminder he needed that time was of the essence. 

He crept through the shadows like a panther hunting freedom rather than prey. His heart leapt when the bamboo in front of him started to thin. Through the stalks, he saw the wall and had started to hope he could actually escape, though he was careful not to let his excitement make him reckless. Yato sagged after a few more steps when he got a clearer view of the area. Leaning against a nearby tree was Bishamon, massive sword in hand, examining her nails idly. 

“Going somewhere, Yato?” She asked venomously. He sighed, knowing the jig was up. Even if he decided to reveal himself as a master, there was no way he could fight her unarmed. She was  _ entirely  _ too good with that huge sword. 

“Not at all,” he said, standing up. “Just trying to get some alone time, you wouldn’t happen to know where I could find that, do you?” 

“Our orders were to intercept you only if you made a break for the wall, which you did. You could have stayed in the clearing and no one would have bothered you, you could have been alone for as long as you liked.” She straightened up at last, turning the tip of her enormous blade towards him. “I’ll use force if I have to.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

“I wouldn’t hate it.” 

“But you hate me.”

“You don’t belong here.”

“Finally, something we can agree on. Why don’t you let me go and I’ll be out of your hair?” 

“Unfortunately, we can’t do that,” Kazuma said behind him. Yato shouted in alarm and jumped, whirling around to face him.  _ Curse  _ his inability to sense these people’s auras or hear their footsteps. Kazuma seized Yato by the arm. “I can see we’re not going to be able to give you even a little leeway.” 

“I don’t know why we’re bothering with this asshole.”

“I agree, why are you bothering?” 

Kazuma began dragging him roughly towards the building around the bamboo thicket. As he was dragged, he saw the rest of the Six stationed intermittently around the perimeter. He’d been surrounded the whole time and he hadn’t known it. 

“Why don’t we talk about your ability to move in perfect silence despite your injured ankle? No one without training should be able to manage that, even with two working feet.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I just didn’t want to be found,” Yato said as Kazuma dragged him into the training hall and slammed the door shut behind him, leaving the two of them alone. 

“You really expect me to believe that?”  _ Nope _ . 

“It’s the truth! I don’t know what you’re talking about, I was just sneaking!” Kazuma glared at him. 

“I know you’re lying. I was watching you; you move like a panther stalking prey.”  _ Shit _ . 

“Maybe I’m just naturally quiet!”

“Time to talk, Yato,” Kazuma said. “You’re not leaving this room until you tell me where you’ve received training in the past.”

“This room isn’t a bad place to live. It’s spacious.” 

Kazuma knelt in front of Yato, the picture of severity. “You’re going to tell me what I want to know, Yato.”

“Or what?” 

“Did you know I’m the best of the Six at spells? I’m even better at them than Tenjin. There’s a spell to force truthfulness.” 

Yato’s eyes widened as he tried to mask the fear those words invoked in him. He forced his mind back to the places where he’d felt safe, but they were flickering out of focus; the ambiance of the gardens at home was being disturbed by his father’s voice, smooth as poison saying  _ ‘you can’t resist me Yato. You can’t lie to me or hide from me.’ _

His refuges were being replaced with the nothing that came when Father took control. It’s why he was known as the Sorcerer: his ability to seize someone’s aura and control them with it, and it was the reason Yato could never be sure of how many people he’d truly killed. Sometimes when Yato was being unruly or uncooperative Father would simply commandeer his body and use him like a puppet for days, or even weeks. Yato would wake from these time periods as if from a nightmare, with new scars and placeless guilt. Father swam before his mind and Yato found himself unable to calm his heart. These people were just like his father, they were going to control him, and then kill him. 

Kazuma stopped speaking and blinked in shock at Yato, alarmed by his freefalling mental state. He hadn’t even  _ threatened _ Yato yet, at least not directly, and his terror had already slapped Kazuma in the face and pushed him back several steps. Yato’s eyes were fixed unseeingly on Kazuma, his face a mask of horror. Using a spell to force him to tell the truth was obviously a mistake. Any attempt now would send him even deeper into a panic and push him further away.  _ What in the hell could make him that scared? _ Kneeling, Kazuma peered into Yato’s face and saw that his eyes stayed fixed unseeingly on that same point in the air. 

“Yato… are you alright?” Yato didn’t seem to hear him. Kazuma hesitated, then reached out. He screamed when Kazuma touched him. 

“Please don’t hurt me!” His voice was young, terrified. 

“I’m not going to hurt you, Yato. I’m sorry. I won’t make you tell me, calm down.” Yato scuttled away and Kazuma let him, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. “I won’t really use a spell on you.” 

Yato still didn’t seem entirely aware of what was going on. He retreated until his back was pressed against a wall, chest heaving. Kazuma focused on his aura, which was now clearly visible with his out of control fear that lashed out wildly like it was trying to escape from his body.  _ Shit,  _ Kazuma thought,  _ I  _ really  _ said the wrong thing.  _

His plan had been to intimidate Yato, not whatever this was. This fear was something primal that had likely been with Yato for a very long time. It was something Kazuma hadn’t meant to tap into. Yato’s eyes remained locked on Kazuma’s for an exceptionally long time. Kazuma remained where he was, watching as the fear  _ very  _ slowly retreated and Yato could be described as something like coherent again. Tears leaked from the corners of Yato’s eyes but Kazuma pretended not to notice while he remained at a safe distance, hands up and aura neutral.

It was several minutes before Yato managed to say “alright, I’ll tell you,” and several more before he managed to choke out a story. 

“I spent some time with some monks. They take in the homeless sometimes if you’re willing to work. They always said I was too noisy, and it disturbed their meditations, so they taught me how to move quietly, so quietly I couldn’t be heard by anyone, even if they were trying. I didn’t mention it before because I was planning to use it to escape.” 

Kazuma watched Yato carefully, certain that what he’d been told wasn’t anywhere near the truth, but also frightened that more pushing would break Yato. Yato was still more afraid than Kazuma had expected him to be, though his aura had stopped trying to separate itself from his body. 

“I’m sorry, Yato. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” Yato responded by pressing his back against the wall harder, jaw clenched. “I didn’t know you would have such a bad reaction. If it makes you feel any better my spells aren’t as strong as I implied.”

“So, when you said-”

“No one here has any luck with spells besides Tenjin, and he never uses them. Saying mine are stronger isn’t much of a brag.” 

“So, you can’t…  _ force  _ me to do things?”

“I could make it difficult to lie, but I couldn’t  _ force  _ you to do anything you didn’t want.” Yato visibly relaxed. “That sort of thing can only be done by true Masters.”

“Like the Sorcerer,” Yato said thickly. 

“Like the Sorcerer,” Kazuma confirmed. He sat down; legs folded. “Monks, huh?” He asked, just to keep Yato talking to try and calm him down.

“...yeah. They were pretty nice. I would have stayed but they kept wanting me to take vows.” 

“And you wanted to have a boyfriend, right?” Yato’s mouth twitched, and just for a second, he was almost smiling. 

“Yeah, but I didn’t see him again for a few months after I left. They  _ did  _ have this really cute shrine maiden, but she wasn’t interested.”

“Her loss.” 

Yato huffed a short laugh, then turned his head away and wiped at his eyes. Kazuma wanted to ask why Yato had freaked out so badly at the mere  _ mention _ of spells, but he knew it would only make him clam up again. 

“You know you probably  _ could  _ have made me do anything, as weak as my aura is. I’ve always been terrible at it. The, uh, monks tried to teach me that too.” Yato said, his voice strained. Kazuma had a distinct feeling that he was being tested. 

“I could… help you with that. I could teach you how to build barriers that can’t be broken down.” Yato choked. 

“Why would you do that? You won’t be able to get information out of me that way.” 

“Not in that way, not in any way probably, considering your tolerance for pain, but I think you have a right to privacy.” 

Yato looked at Kazuma then, eyes wide and vulnerable, and nodded. “Alright, I’ll let you help me keep secrets from you.” 

Kazuma chuckled. “Great, we can start whenever you’re ready.”

“Now?”

“Now is good.”

* * *

Father had never bothered to teach Yato anything about chi, or auras. It wouldn’t do to have Yato learning to resist him, would it? If Yato could resist Father than he’d lose control of a valuable resource. The idea of getting training from someone who wasn’t Father had crossed his mind before, but he’d always been too afraid to try it. 

It felt different here, though. Even if Rabo and Nora had been deployed the instant that Yato had been named Dragon Warrior, which was impossible, they still wouldn’t be here for weeks. It provided a sense of safety that he hadn’t had before, leading him to try things he’d never dared. 

“The first thing would be to learn how to control your fear,” Kazuma began, “you’re easiest to read when you’re afraid.” 

_ That explains a lot.  _ He was afraid a lot at home. 

“And how do I do that?” 

“The first would be to focus on your breathing and heart rate. Do your best to keep them under control. Then you have to focus on a place that makes you feel safe, and if you don’t have one, make one up,” he added. Yato thought hard and locked onto the clearing in the middle of the bamboo thicket.  _ You could have been alone there for as long as you wanted,  _ Bishamon had said. 

“Alright…” Yato said slowly. 

“Next picture your aura as a wall around you. A high stone wall that no one can pierce. No one but you can get in and out. No one can get you inside the wall and you’re safe.” Yato did his best to stomp out the thought,  _ not likely _ . 

“Okay…”

“Now fortify your wall, make it strong. Use your will power. You’re very stubborn, you should have plenty of that. Still, you won’t get it your first try, it’ll take practice.” 

Yato did as he was told and imagined himself in the thicket, surrounded on all sides by a thick wall of solid stone. Next, he imagined his father on the other side of it and at once the walls began to crumble. 

“No, Yato. Don’t psych yourself out. You’re safe here.” Yato forced Father from his mind and held tightly to his resolve. 

“The best way to train your walls is for someone to try to get through. Are you okay with that? I won’t try to hurt you or make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

“Alright but be gentle. It’s my first time,” Yato said, throwing a suggestive look at Kazuma, mostly for his own benefit.

He took himself back to the bamboo thicket and fortified his mind. Something that resembled a knock sounded through the area and he realized it must be Kazuma. Already a crack began to appear on his wall, and he struggled to mend it. 

“Keep your cool, Yato. Panic will make your wall easier to break.”

Yato took a deep breath and imagined the cracks in his wall filling. He had to admit he wasn’t entirely sure what Kazuma meant by using his willpower to fortify it, but he set his mind firmly on the idea  _ keep him out _ and hoped it worked. Kazuma knocked again, and again cracks appeared, but they were smaller than last time. Another knock and Yato did his best to hold firm.  _ Keep him out. Keep him out. Keep him out. _ After three more knocks, Yato’s wall shattered, and he collapsed back onto the mat, wiping the sweat off his forehead. 

“I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but your walls really  _ were  _ weak.” Yato sighed, unsurprised. 

“No one’s  _ ever  _ told me how to do that… just how to be unseen,” he added, remembering his lie. 

“Why would they do that?” Yato shrugged. “Are you okay to keep going?” He nodded.

He sat up and they tried again, and again, and again until Yato became frustrated with his lack of progress. Even he could tell Kazuma wasn’t putting any real effort into his attacks. 

“I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong.” 

“I think it might have to do with confidence. What’s something you’re good at?”  _ Fighting _ . 

“Cooking.” 

“And when you’re cooking do you worry about  _ if  _ you make a dish, or how you will do it?”

“How.”

“So, you’re pretty confident you can cook right?”

“Well, I mean, you’ve  _ had  _ my food. You  _ know  _ I can cook.” 

Kazuma laughed. “You’re right, I do, but the important thing is that  _ you  _ know you can cook. Now try to hold onto that feeling, imagine that you  _ know  _ you can keep me out of your mind and just do it.” 

“If you say so.” 

Yato returned to the bamboo thicket, standing rather than sitting in the dappled sunlight with the fierce determination that he had during a fight. In one hand he held a katana and in the other a wakizashi.  _ No one  _ could get past him if he didn’t want them to, he knew that much. He forced his will outwards against the walls and propped them up. 

This time when Kazuma knocked nothing happened. Yato felt emboldened by this, sitting up a little straighter. Kazuma knocked a little harder and the cracks appeared once more, but Yato mended them, crossing his swords in front of him to protect himself. The walls shook but didn’t fall at Kazuma’s next knock. Sweat was forming on Yato’s brow, he could feel it, but he ignored it. 

“Impressive. You must have a real passion for cooking.”

“Uh, yeah, it’s the best.”

“You’re not doing bad for an absolute beginner, but it would be best not to overwork your mind for right now. Why don’t we stop for the day?” Yato looked out the window and was surprised to see there was still plenty of daylight left. 

“Why don’t we move onto something else instead?” He asked. “I don’t know what I’d do for the rest of the day, and I hate being bored.” Kazuma smiled. 

“Alright.” 

Yato smiled conspiratorially. 

“Why don’t you teach me how to throw a punch?”

“Hiyori-”

“-said not to strain my ankle, but punches use your arms! Come on, it’d be so funny to surprise Hiyori! Imagine her expression!” Kazuma took in the glow of mischief on Yato’s face and smiled. 

“Fine,” he said, “but don’t tell anyone! I don’t want Hiyori yelling at me for endangering your health.” Yato laughed. 

“That would actually be fun to see.” 

“I’m warning you; this stays between us.”

“Oh yeah, and what are you going to do if I tell?”

“Make you run the stairs leading up the mountain. All of them.” Yato gave him a horrified look. 

“You’re  _ evil _ ,” he whispered. Kazuma laughed again. Their earlier run-ins and Yato’s escape attempt forgotten. 

Kazuma led Yato to the beginner’s dummy and walked him through the basic motions of a punch. He enjoyed the  _ incredibly detailed _ explanations of every motion required, holding back a grin, and wondering if Kazuma was like this with everyone or if he just thought Yato was dumb. Probably both. During his first attempts, Yato made a few errors and allowed Kazuma to correct his stance slightly, showing him the right way a few more times before he ‘got it.’

Yato hadn’t expected to enjoy re-learning the basics, but he did. He found it almost therapeutic to go through the same lesson with much gentler instructors this time around. In fact, he found himself looking forward to lessons and maybe learning slightly more advanced techniques. Each style had its own quirks and Yato found them fascinating. Father had taught him from a great many fighting techniques, but never one in particular. What Yato practiced was a crude hodgepodge of several different fighting techniques that were pieced together like a patchwork quilt of violence. 

After an enjoyable time learning how to punch, Yato shook out his arm, resting. 

“Okay, so I have to ask, why are you called Mantis? Is it because of your two knives? Did someone think they look like those thingies a praying mantis has?” Kazuma laughed. 

“Yeah, actually, a little bit. So, the thing is when I was little, I was abandoned. I wandered around a bit before I happened to stumble into a patch of forest where Viina was living.”

“Wait, what?” 

“Oh, Viina and I lived in the jungle for a little while as kids. A section of the forest near enough to civilization that it was avoided by major predators, thank God, or we would have died so fast.” 

“So, you got lucky.” 

“Absolutely. When I got there Viina was already ruling that little patch of forest with her tiny iron fist. She taught me how to survive in the wild until the day Tenjin found us. He was strolling through our territory minding his own business when Viina attacked him roaring like a, well, a tiger. My job was to hide in the bushes and wait for an opportunity. While Tenjin was dealing with the shock of randomly being attacked by a seven-year-old wearing tattered clothes and mud like it was war paint, armed with nothing but a rock, I jumped in carrying two pointy sticks. He called me Mantis because I blended in so well with the surroundings and my two sticks. He didn’t even know I was there.”

“Impressive.”

“To be fair Viina was hard to deal with even then.”

“Suddenly everything about her makes more sense.” 

Kazuma laughed. “She lost her family to bandits when she was young. She fled into the forest to escape, and when she went back there was nothing left, so she went back into the forest and didn’t leave again until Tenjin dragged us out kicking and screaming.”

“Sounds familiar,” Yato grumbled. Kazuma nodded, a nostalgic smile playing across his face. 

“We tried to run to, so I understand the impulse, even though it made a lot more sense to keep us here in our case. He was protecting us from ourselves. It was only a matter of time before a hungry tiger came by and made quick work of us, but of course, we thought we were invincible.”

“I’m sure you did.” 

“So, what made you ask about my fighting name?”

“Hiyori told me why you call Yukine Monkey earlier.” Kazuma laughed loudly. 

“I still remember that. All I saw was this little yellow blob plummet from a tree and drag Tenjin to the ground. I don’t think I’ve laughed that hard before or since.”

“I can imagine. I’d love to see anything knock that geezer down a peg.” 

“He may be old, but he could still kick your ass,” Kazuma said. 

“Yeah, but so could a lot of people, he ain’t special.” 

Still, Yato thought about how Tenjin was the only person to go head to head with Father and live, and how he was the only person Father never openly challenged. Maybe he was safer here than he had originally thought. 


	6. 5- The Kids Aren't Alright

“Get up,” Kazuma said, prodding Yato’s ribs with his foot. 

“Five more minutes,” Yato groaned, rolling away, burying his face in his pillow. 

“This is the Jade Palace, not a bed and breakfast. Here we rise with the sun, now get  _ up _ , Yato.”

“I thought they only rose with the sun in the Palace of the Rising Sun. Don’t your prisoners even get to sleep in?” Yato whined, pulling the covers over his head. Kazuma bent down and snatched the blanket away. 

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have stayed up all night chatting with Kofuku.” 

“I had to stay up! She was telling me the story of how she and Daikoku met! They’re such a nice couple, don’t you think?” 

“Yes, I do, now get up,” he nudged Yato again, harder this time, but Yato didn’t move.

“I’ve slept through monsoons under stoops with no blanket before. If you think you’re getting me up before I’m ready you got another thing coming.” 

Kazuma rolled his eyes and cast about for an idea. He sighed when he landed on one he thought might work, primarily because it was just a juvenile as Yato. It seemed like he was going to have to employ desperate measures to get Yato up and he’d only ever seen this done by kids on the street. So, it was perfect for dealing with Yato. Yato shouted in protest when Kazuma jammed a saliva covered finger into his ear. Shrieking, Yato leapt off his bed, scrambling across the room and swiping madly at his ear. 

“That’s disgusting! You’re a freak!”

“Oh, pardon me, I thought you slept through monsoons and there was  _ nothing  _ I could do to get you up if you weren’t ready,” Kazuma retorted. “I  _ did  _ warn you to get up.”

“This place is a fucking nightmare!” Yato snapped, jamming a wad of his shirt into his ear to clean out the spit. 

“Yeah, yeah, we’re awful. Get up or there’s another one coming your way.”

“I don’t believe this. There has got to be some law somewhere that makes it illegal to force people out of bed with wet willies.”

“There is not but you should start a petition.”

* * *

“Aren’t those two chummy?” Bishamon asked as Yato and Kazuma walked by, chatting animatedly, Kazuma still taking most of Yato’s weight. 

“After Kazuma scared him so badly too…” Hiyori said uncertainty. “I felt it all the way on the other side of the castle, and it’s normally impossible to see his aura even in the same room.” 

“I know, and Kazuma wouldn’t even tell me what happened.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it was weird. Maybe Stockholm syndrome?”

“I don’t know if it works that fast..."

* * *

“-and this jackass kicks his foot out and I go tumbling down, a  _ massive  _ tray of hot soup in my hands and it spills all over this  _ crazy buff  _ chick and she's burned pretty badly, right?”

“Oh no,” Kazuma said. 

“Get this, she gets mad at  _ me  _ for spilling hot soup on her even though I was  _ tripped _ . So, I’m like on my belly apologizing, forehead to the ground because I do  _ not  _ want to be on this lady’s bad side, but it was too late for that. She was  _ not  _ having it. This lady was the size of Daikoku I swear.”

“Oh, gods…”

“And she kicked me  _ hard  _ in the side, while I’m  _ on the ground _ , and I  _ swear _ I  _ heard  _ my ribs crack. So, I go flying across this outdoor courtyard and hit the wall. My head hits the bricks so hard I’m too dazed to get away, so I tried going limp hoping that she’d be above hitting a guy who was basically unconscious, but she was  _ not _ . She broke half a dozen or so of my ribs, my arm, and my leg! I was in the hospital for a full month before I could even move, and I didn’t have money for medical bills, so I had to skip town on a splinted leg and broken ankle. My leg reset pretty easily  _ thank God,  _ but I fell pretty hard on my wrist and it is permanently fucked up, and  _ that  _ is the story of my worst ass-kicking ever!” Yato declared boldly, crossing his arms triumphantly and chuckling at Kazuma’s horrified expression. 

“That’s  _ horrible _ ,” Kazuma said. 

“Oh my God, it  _ was _ ,” Yato said brightly. “I thought I was a goner, but at least everything since then has been small potatoes in comparison, even that beating your girlfriend gave me.” 

“ _ No one _ tried to help you?”

“What could they have done?” Yato asked, “this chick was  _ massive _ ! She would have put anyone who tried to intervene in a cot right next to mine!”

“The man who tripped you…”

“Probably had a good laugh, honestly, he seemed like a real asshole.”

“I had no idea people were so rude to waiters.”

“For the record getting beaten within an inch of your life isn’t exactly a typical day, I just had a really bad stroke of luck. I think I must just be really bad at customer service because I know some people who really like it.” 

“I meant the guy who tripped you, but holy shit. When you kept saying you’d had worse I thought you were bluffing.”

“No way, feel my wrist, you can still feel the break,” he held out his hand and Kazuma gingerly placed his fingers on the uneven seam in Yato’s bones. Kazuma cringed and Yato laughed again. 

“I wonder if Hiyori could help…” he said thoughtfully. 

“I’ve had it looked at before. To fix it Hiyori would have to break it again in the same place and reset it and  _ no thank you _ . My wrist has been through enough thank you very much! It only bothers me when I’ve been using it a lot and when it’s going to rain, and I kinda like being able to predict the weather like an old person.” Kazuma gave him an incredulous look.

“You are so  _ weird _ !”

“That’s mean! And it’s your turn! I told you about my worst ass-kicking, now you tell me yours!”

“Well, I’ve had some pretty bad ones in my life, being a fighter for justice and all-”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re so very honorable and impressive, get to the good stuff.” 

“Alright, I think my worst one was when I tried to break up a gang fight alone.” Yato actually looked up from the vegetables he’d been chopping and set his knife down. 

“Oh,  _ this  _ is going to be good.” 

“I was walking down the street, minding my own business, when someone bumped into me really hard and kept running.” 

“Rude.”

“Right? So, I look in the direction they were running from and I see two groups of people all facing off against each other, holding swords and clubs and planks of wood with nails in them. There are already bodies on the ground, and I didn’t even think, I just jumped right in, unarmed, like a fool.” 

“Master Mantis!” Yato cried in false consternation, “how reckless and irresponsible!”

“I know, I know. As it turns out there was one thing those two gangs  _ could  _ agree on, and it was that I should not be meddling in their business. I managed to take one of their swords and got a few good shots in. I actually took a few of them out, but there were  _ so many _ of them. I don’t remember much else about it, but I woke up back home with Tenjin sitting over me, glowering. He told me the police had brought me back like a lost handbag. ‘Does this belong to you?’ He was so angry; he didn’t let me go anywhere on my own for a full year.” 

“Damn, how long did it take you to recover?”

“A month and a half, here, some of my ribs are still weird, feel.” He lifted the hem of his shirt and Yato leaned over the table and pressed his hand against the lumpy part of Kazuma’s chest. He recoiled in a delighted sort of horror. 

“Ew! At least you got some of them, though. I  _ wish  _ I could have gotten a shot in on that lady. I probably would have broken my hand on her face; I think she may have been made out of granite. It would have helped my pride, though.” 

“It’s so unfair, all of Viina’s stories are like ‘a burning building fell on me while I carried thirty children to safety’ or ‘I fought off a tiger cub as a child to claim a section of the forest as my own’ or something.”

“Are those real examples or things you just made up? I need to know how afraid of her I should be.” 

“I made those two up, don’t worry, but honestly they sound like something she’d do, right?”

“I don’t really know her, but yes. That’s honestly rude, she should have at least  _ some  _ embarrassing stories like the rest of us. Maybe she’s making up some cool stories to cover up the embarrassing ones to preserve her badass reputation.” 

“That would make  _ me  _ feel better about myself,” Kazuma said, laughing. “Somehow even the stories about her lost fights make her sound like an amazing hero.”

“Maybe she’s just a really good storyteller! I was apprenticed to a village storyteller once. He was  _ awesome _ !”

“Oh yeah, did you learn any good stories?” 

“Unfortunately, no. I didn’t last very long in that apprenticeship. I sort of ran afoul of the village leadership and thought it was best I leave.” 

“How do you manage to get into so much trouble?” Kazuma asked, sounding half exasperated, half amused. 

“To be fair I didn’t know it was her wedding festival  _ or  _ that she was the headman's daughter when I started hitting on her.” 

“Oh my God.” 

“I wouldn’t have come onto her if I’d known! Not to mention she was acting all interested and flirting back! And not that fake laugh flirt that you get sometimes when you hit on someone and they want you to go away but are trying to be polite!”

“How strong did you come on to her, exactly?”

“...pretty strong.”

“Oh, dear.”

“I’m not exactly a subtle guy.”

“I’d noticed.” 

“I backed off once I found out, but they were pretty pissed, so I went ahead and skipped town before they got the mob together and everything.” 

“You seem to run from your problems a lot. I think I’m seeing a pattern. I’m starting to think that it isn’t personal that you keep trying to run from the palace, it’s just your way.” Yato laughed uncomfortably. 

“Well, when you put it like that.”

“Hello boys,” Hiyori said lightly, gliding into the kitchen and taking a seat at the table, followed closely by Bishamon. “What’re you talking about?” 

“The worst ass-kickings we ever got,” Yato supplied. 

“Did Kazuma tell you about the gang fight?” Bishamon asked.

“He did, in fact, and here I was thinking that he was the responsible one of the group.”

“He usually is,” Hiyori said, “but everyone makes mistakes now and then.”

“What about you, Hiyori? Worst ass beating, let’s hear it. Share your shame,” Yato said, leaning forward and grinning conspiratorially. 

Hiyori laughed but nodded. “Let’s see, it had to have been…”

“Those dog fighters,” Bishamon interjected.

“I was just about to say the same thing. What happened was it was just me and Bishamon infiltrating this underground dog fighting ring with the others standing guard outside to catch anyone who got past the two of us, but we grossly underestimated the number of people  _ and  _ dogs in there.” Suddenly Yato’s mind made a connection between the scars that covered Hiyori’s exposed skin and this story. He’d  _ thought  _ they looked like bite marks. His stomach turned sour. 

“Not to mention we failed to realize the place had been dug out and was a two-story arena,” Kazuma said, looking ashamed. 

“Those dogs were savage,” Hiyori said, grimacing. 

“They were more like wolves,” Bishamon said venomously. Yato gulped. 

“While Bishamon was fighting on the top floor I dropped down to the lower floor to apprehend the guy in charge, but he pulled this lever and opened all the gates at once. The dogs closed in on me in seconds. My naginata did a pretty good job of keeping them at bay until one jumped on my back and knocked me down. It was all over then. They overran me. It took four of the others to get me out of there, Daikoku had to carry me. That’s why basically my whole body is covered in scars.” She extended her scarred arms and Yato nodded, feeling ill. 

“I thought she was  _ dead _ ,” Bishamon said tightly. 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Yato said quietly. “Now I feel stupid for bragging about my broken wrist.” He rubbed woefully at the offending appendage. 

“Broken wrist?” Hiyori asked, eyes drawn by his movement. He held it out for her to inspect, keeping his breathing carefully neutral as her fingers warmed his skin. 

“It’s a souvenir from  _ my  _ worst ass beating. I already told Kazuma the story.” 

“But this is an incredibly easy fracture to set! How could they have messed it up?” Her face had taken on a professional sort of indignation. 

“To be fair, they might have done it right and I ruined it during my escape. It wasn’t exactly a graceful flight if you know what I mean. I couldn’t pay my medical bills so as soon as my leg could bear any weight without me passing out, I had to make a break for it.”

“You could have waited a bit longer,” Hiyori said reproachfully. 

“They started asking for money the second I woke up! I had to have them send a letter to an imaginary cousin just to buy time so I wouldn’t be spending the rest of my recuperation in debtors prison!” Hiyori’s face darkened. 

“How dare they? Doctors like that are the worst kind of scum, they care more about money than helping people. You should tell me who they are so I can give them a piece of my mind!” Yato glanced, wide-eyed, at Kazuma to see if she was being serious. Kazuma shook his head tightly and Yato laughed nervously. 

“I don’t even remember where they were, much less their names,” he lied. He wondered what Hiyori would have done with the information if he’d told her. Nothing good, certainly.

“I’m sorry I missed the story about someone else giving you what you deserve,” Bishamon said, glaring at Yato. 

“You didn’t miss much, just another one-sided beating. It turns out there are tons of buff blonde chicks out there who like beating the shit out of people who can’t defend themselves. You guys should start a club.”

“Maybe all women just hate you.” 

“Not true! Kofuku told me all about how she and Daikoku fell in love at that tournament and they made it to the Jade Palace together and everything.” 

“She’ll tell anyone that story.”

“Why wouldn’t she? It’s a great story! Really had me going, I stayed up all night just to hear it.” 

“Yato, is it possible that you’re a romantic?” Hiyori teased. Yato grinned. 

“I  _ could  _ tell you, but it’d be so much more fun to show you,” he drawled, batting his eyelashes. Hiyori rolled her eyes as Bishamon made a disgusted sound.

“I hope you weren’t this lame with that bride or I’d have to side with the mob who chased you out of town,” Kazuma said, bemused. 

“I ran off  _ before  _ they assembled the mob, thank you very much!”

“Wait, what?” Hiyori asked. 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

“It would seem that Yato attracts calamity and misfortune wherever he goes,” Kazuma joked, oblivious to that despair that Yato had to fight back at those words. 

“You mean like Kofuku?” Yukine asked sleepily, dragging his feet all the way from the door to the table, rubbing his eyes. 

“What’s that mean?”

“Oh, Kofuku sort of… causes disasters wherever she goes. She doesn’t  _ do  _ anything, well not usually, but I swear to God once she visited a volcano and it erupted while she was there, after hundreds of years of dormancy. We barely had enough time to evacuate.”

“A coincidence-” 

“And then there are the earthquakes,” Hiyori added. 

“And the rockslides,” Yukine put in. 

“That famine,” Bishamon finished. 

“You guys are joking, right? You’re playing a prank on the new guy, ha-ha very funny.” 

“I wish we were joking,” Yukine said, “but Kofuku really does seem to cause disaster. It’s weird. This is the only place she can be for an extended period of time without something terrible happening. Tenjin isn’t sure if something in her aura  _ disturbs  _ the natural world or if her aura is just  _ attracted  _ to places where the natural aura is in disorder, but if you ever see her get worked up you’ll understand.” 

Yato, still unsure if he was being pranked, didn’t reply. He served breakfast for the five of them since Daikoku and Kofuku wouldn’t be joining them after their babysitting shift. 

“So, what the hell had you pissing your pants yesterday?” Yukine asked brashly. Yato looked up from his meal, surprised, and saw Hiyori shoot Yukine a sharp look. 

“There was a spider in the dojo and Kazuma had to kill it for me,” Yato said flatly. He held challenging eye contact with Yukine, watching his annoyance grow until eventually he shrugged and returned his attention to his food. 

“Whatever, wimp.” 

“Come on, squirt, you can come up with something better than that. What are we, twelve? Oh, wait-” he smirked arrogantly at Yukine. 

“I’m thirteen years old and I could still kick your ass.”

“Yeah but so could a lot of people.” 

“You’re pathetic.”

“But oh, so charming.”

“More like annoying.” 

“Same thing, really.” Yukine made a frustrated sound and lobbed a piece of bacon at Yato’s head. He caught it and ate it, grinning. “Thanks!”

* * *

Yato was hot, sweaty, and pretty damn annoyed that Kazuma looked as cool as a cucumber. They’d been practicing for hours and Yato was still unable to put up a barrier strong enough to keep out even Kazuma’s feeblest attempts. He growled in frustration and collapsed backward onto the grass. 

“Don’t feel bad, I’m better at this than most people.” 

_ But still not as good as my dad, _ Yato thought bitterly. Still, he couldn’t deny that this training gave him a feeling of independence and safety that he’d never had before. The beginnings of hope that he’d never have to submit to his father’s will were forming in his chest. Could it be that his imprisonment here would be the thing that gave him the tools he needed to be set free?

“Oh, why thank you, Mister Modesty,” Yato jabbed, betraying none of his inner musings. “I appreciate the compliment.” 

“Maybe we should take a break, you look pretty worn out, and you don’t want to strain yourself.” Yato sighed heavily and shaded his face so he could gaze up through the branches of the willow tree. 

“This is a really pretty garden,” Yato commented. 

“Tenjin’s master designed it, he was a kung fu master and hobbyist gardener.” 

“A man of many interests.” 

Kazuma climbed to his feet. “I’m going to get some water; I’ll bring you some back.”

“Look at you, leaving the prisoner unattended,” Yato said, stifling a yawn. “Just the other day you yelled at Yukine and Hiyori for the same thing.”

“Oh, right, I almost forgot, don’t run.” Yato snorted as Kazuma walked away. 

Yato yawned again as the peace of the afternoon blanketed him. He closed his eyes, wondering if he could get in a nap before Kazuma got back and woke him up.

* * *

Yukine stood fifty feet away, fuming. Kazuma was really just going to  _ leave  _ him there? After all the shit that he had given him for falling asleep on the job? At least  _ he’d  _ still been in Yato’s general area. 

It was  _ so  _ unfair. It felt like everything that Yukine did was picked apart and criticized so much that he couldn’t do anything right, but this idiot  _ falls  _ in front of Tenjin’s finger and suddenly he’s the messiah? What a joke. He gritted his teeth and stalked away. Hopefully, the jackass would bolt while no one was watching and Yukine wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore.

* * *

_ His father loomed over him; a mountain of fear cloaked in darkness before the tiny form of his trembling son.  _

_ “Did you really think that you could resist me? Did you think that Mantis could teach you to defend yourself against a master of chi?”  _

_ “N-no, I-” His vision went dark. When it cleared, he was standing amidst a field of broken and mutilated bodies, his clothing woefully inadequate against the cold, blood drying on his skin. He was surrounded by the carnage of the dozens of people whom he’d slaughtered. How had he gotten here? When had he done this? _

_ In his hand, he held a blood-stained sword and as it slipped from his fingers, he realized what had happened. This was a lesson.  _

_ “You can never disobey me, Yaboku.” _

* * *

Yato sprang up, eyes wide and wild, scream choked off by terror. He was blinded by pain as his forehead hit something that shouted in pain upon their collision.

“What the hell?” Kazuma cried.

“Damn it!” Yato shouted. 

Kazuma fell back onto his butt in the grass and clutched at his forehead, giving Yato a questioning look. Yato groaned and laid back down, trying to blink his vision back to normal. 

“I didn’t even touch you!” Kazuma said. 

“It’s not  _ my  _ fault! I’m not the guy hovering over sleeping dudes!”

“You were making this terrible sound and your aura was freaking out! I was  _ trying  _ to wake you up!”

“I was dreaming!”

“About  _ what _ ?”

“About my ex-boyfriend?”

“Gross! What kind of weird shit are you into to have an aura like that during a sex dream?” Kazuma practically shouted, “Wait, don’t tell me I  _ don’t  _ want to know!”

“It wasn’t a sex dream dammit!”

“Then what was it?”

“It was a nightmare, alright?”

“You have nightmares about your boyfriend? I think it’s  _ really  _ time for you to look for someone else, Yato!” 

“I lied about the boyfriend thing! It was just a regular nightmare!” Kazuma blinked at him, shaking off his alarm and narrowing his eyes, focusing on the energy encircling Yato. 

“You’re still freaked out about it; your aura is in chaos. What the hell was the nightmare even about?”

“That’s private,” Yato said, huffing and rolling over so Kazuma couldn’t see his face as he tried to get himself under control. 

His heart was still racing. How was he supposed to explain that his nightmare had been so terrifying not because it was a fiction created by his mind, but because it was half reality? The images had been pulled directly from his past, but also told his future. Instead of trying and revealing his secret he kept his mouth shut and focused on his breathing. He went back to the clearing in the bamboo thicket, imagining the sounds of bamboo clattering in the wind and the whispering of the stream. Again, he heard his father call out his true name and felt chills race up his spine. 

He blocked the voice out. 

“Alright, you don’t have to tell me,” Kazuma said, “but you should get your emotions under control or the others will think I’m bullying you again.” 

Yato shot him a confused look. “What?” 

“Viina asked me if I tried to kill you the other day, and just now when I was getting the water Hiyori asked what I did to you to make you freak out like that. They both felt you from the other side of the palace and thought I was murdering you or something.” Yato snorted. 

“What did you tell them?”

“That it wasn’t their business,” Kazuma said, leaning back and handing Yato a waterskin. Yato relaxed slightly and the corner of his lips quirked. He sat up finally and took the water Kazuma offered him. 

Kazuma smiled back, glad both that Yato was calmer now and that he seemed to be gaining his trust. He hoped to prove to him that he could be trusted enough for Yato to share what was bothering him so badly, and maybe that would help him with his mental shield training. 

“God, my head hurts,” Yato complained, “maybe we should go see if Hiyori has anything for headaches.”

“Or concussions,” Kazuma suggested, “though I think you just want an excuse to see her. She’s doing an inventory of medical supplies today.” Yato stuck his tongue out. They climbed to their feet and Yato swayed, vision blacking out. “Whoa, are you okay?” 

“Fuck, I hit you a lot harder than I thought. Let’s go ask Hiyori to check us out.” 

“We’re never going to hear the end of this, though. Maybe she’ll decide to call you ’Trainee Ram’ because of the headbutt.” Yato groaned. 

“Don’t you dare say that to her. Besides, I thought I was ‘Trainee Dragon’ or whatever. Wasn’t that the whole point of keeping me here against my will?”

“Dragon is the title you will have to  _ earn, _ and it will be bestowed upon you at a later date. Until you become a master, you’re just Yato, or whatever trainee name we decide to give you.”  _ Jokes on you, I’m already a master and that isn’t even my real name, _ Yato thought. 

“What joy.”

* * *

“What exactly happened to the two of you?” Hiyori asked, surveying the bruises blooming on their foreheads when they entered the infirmary. Yukine rolled his eyes mutinously at the sight of Yato.  _ Someone’s in a bad mood _ . 

“I think I got a concussion from headbutting Kazuma.” 

“Wait, what? I thought you two were doing mental training,” She looked again at their matching bruises. 

“I headbutted Kazuma really hard and I think one or both of us may have a concussion,” Yato repeated. 

“Was this during your newest escape attempt, jackass?” Yukine asked furiously. 

“Language!” Hiyori snapped. 

“No! I fell asleep and he woke me up and I sat up really fast and our foreheads hit really hard!”

“How is it possible for you to be such an idiot?”

“How is it possible for you to be such a twirp?”

“It is  _ unbelievable _ that I have to deal with your stupid insults and your stupid escape attempts!” Yukine said loudly, slamming his fists on the table. 

“Yukine!” Kazuma scolded, “keep your temper in check.” 

Even Yato could tell that that just made Yukine even angrier; he didn’t need to be able to read auras to interpret the boy’s mutinous expression. Hiyori took a long calming breath before speaking. 

“Come here,” she said, resigned. 

She gestured to the one empty countertop and the boys hopped onto it, sitting side by side. Yato swung his legs while they watched Hiyori dig through her medical supplies, giving them both an annoyed look. 

“I thought training your boundaries with Kazuma would be physically safe if not a little emotionally traumatizing.” 

“I told you I haven’t done anything to him!” Kazuma protested. 

“He’s lying! He told me he would remove my skin and make me eat it if I didn’t behave!” Yato said, eyes wide and innocent.

“ _ WHAT _ ?” Kazuma snapped as Hiyori laughed in surprise. “Yato, you liar!”

“It’s true! He said he’d peel off my skin and I’d have to live my life as a skinless beast and that no one would ever love me again because when my skin grew back I would look like an avocado!” Hiyori snorted so hard she had to place a hand on Kazuma’s shoulder to steady herself while he spluttered in indignation.

“That’s the  _ stupidest _ lie I’ve ever heard,” Yukine snapped, annoyed. 

“Let’s not tell that one to Bishamon or she might start using it on her trainees,” Hiyori said, voice still tight with laughter.

“With Viina I think it would sound less ridiculous.” 

Yato considered his next move for a moment before turning to Kazuma, dipping his toe into the cold and brutal place he lived in when he was home. 

“If you don’t get your act together, I’m going to skin you alive and make you eat what’s left,” Yato growled. 

Kazuma recoiled in shock, eyes widening. Hiyori’s jaw dropped, and behind the two of them even Yukine looked on in disbelief. 

Yato’s lips spread into a goofy grin as his head broke water and he was himself again, giggling at the reactions to his transformation. He winked gleefully and swung his legs merrily; glad their reactions had proved that none of them had thought he’d had  _ that  _ in him. He was doing  _ something  _ right at least.

“You gotta learn how to pretend that you’re scary or the bigger guys will never leave you alone,” he said by way of explanation. 

It wasn’t the truth; his transformation had been no lie. That was a part of himself he kept locked away deep inside, except apparently for jokes, but it seemed plausible enough of a story to him. 

“Everyone is bigger than you, slim jim,” Yukine commented. 

“I could say the same for you, short stuff.”

“Don’t you have any new insults?”

“Don’t you have any friends?” 

“Shut  _ up _ !” Yukine’s voice rang off the wood-paneled walls.

Yato raised an eyebrow, then narrowed his eyes and focused his mind like Kazuma had been teaching him, trying to see Yukine’s aura. His perception of it was weak, but even so, Yato could see the anger rolling off him. It practically filled the whole room and Yato wondered how he hadn’t noticed it before. The ‘friends’ comment had struck a nerve, apparently. He looked closer and found that beneath the burning rage was the chill of fear and despair, and recoiled. 

_ He’s  _ just  _ like me _ . 

Yato barely concealed his shocked intake of breath. He felt like he was looking into a mirror. The demons that battled inside Yukine were the same ones that battled inside Yato, and he knew instinctively they were put there in the same fashion. Something about their collective pain called out to one another, recognizing a like soul. And sure enough, when Yato looked for it deep down where it was hidden even from Yukine there was a tiny seed of grief he’d repressed until it was almost gone. Almost. 

Suddenly his volatile behavior made sense. 

But what could he do? Yato had long ago acclimated to the battle inside him, but Yukine was clearly still struggling with that fight. In fact, it looked like he was losing it. His emotions were out of control. No one but Rabo had ever bothered to help Yato, and he had simply let Yato vent and took any hits he threw. He knew no other way to help. 

Unless…

It would be  _ so easy _ to push Yukine over the edge, to give the reins to his anger and let it exhaust itself until only fear and grief remained. All he had to do was find the right words, to push the right pressure points until Yukine snapped, and Yato could deal with the fallout just like Rabo had for him. The only tools Yato had to use were the ones he’d been given, even if they were broken. There was likely someone out there who knew a far more appropriate way to deal with this situation. 

But they weren’t here. Yato was.

And Yato had a plan. 

“What’s the problem,  _ junior _ , is your lack of friends a touchy subject for the  _ baby _ ?” Yato drawled, pretending to examine his cuticles with disinterest while he carefully watched Yukine’s reactions. 

“I said shut  _ up _ !”

“Yukine, calm down! Yato, stop provoking him,” Kazuma snapped. His voice was stern, but his aura was tinged with worry. 

A glance at Kazuma’s face told Yato he did  _ not  _ want this to evolve into a repeat of the testing day when Bishamon kicked his ass. Too bad that was  _ exactly  _ the direction Yato was steering this situation. In his head he heard Rabo telling him to  _ stop  _ indulging his self destructive streak, but he ignored him. 

“Oh no, Kazuma, I think it’s  _ cute  _ when the little guy gets angry, especially if it’s for stupid reasons. Everybody gets lonely sometimes, squirt,” he said, making eye contact and grinning nastily. “Although even a bum like me has a  _ few  _ friends. How pathetic are you exactly?” 

Yato winced internally but kept the hesitation off his face. He was in too deep now to turn back, and Yukine was an inch away from detonating. The person who instilled all this rage in him was too remote a target now, and without a place for all that rage to go it had built up inside him. 

Whoever had put it there was too far away in miles and years to be his target now. 

“Would you shut your mouth?” Yukine shrieked, voice tearing in his throat. Yato knew he’d hit the bullseye. “You’re just some bum who doesn’t know anything about anything!”

Yato hopped off the counter and approached Yukine, ducking past the arms that tried to stop him. 

“I  _ know  _ how to get under your skin, coward. What’s the matter? Not gonna hit me now that you don’t have your big stick to hide behind?” 

Yukine’s fist connected viciously with the underside of Yato’s jaw and his teeth clicked together as he went flying and crashed into a table. Medical supplies clattered to the ground. 

_ Bingo _ , he thought, wincing as he picked himself up. 

“Yukine!” Hiyori shouted, rushing between them. Yato dodged around her again, smirking at Yukine. 

“Is that all you got, kid? A pretty weak effort.” 

“I’ll show you effort!” Yukine punched Yato hard in the stomach and Yato staggered back, coughing violently. 

Kazuma leapt forward to stop them, but Yukine was faster, ducking around him and knocking Yato to the ground. 

“I picked this fight, Kazuma, let me finish it,” Yato said, winking. Kazuma seemed taken aback by the calm in Yato’s face despite his strained voice. 

“He’ll kill you…”

“I’m tougher than I look.” Yato climbed to his feet and turned back to Yukine. “You won’t even get a shot on me,” he said. 

Yukine’s next punch snapped Yato’s head to the side and he stumbled before straightening and wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. The kid was just getting started. A harsh kick to the gut sent Yato crashing into the wall before Yukine pried him away and threw him into a cabinet that splintered from the force of Yato’s impact.  _ That’s going to hurt in the morning _ , he thought. 

Now confusion mixed with Yukine’s rage. He gave a frustrated growl and slung Yato into another table, sending its contents crashing to the ground. Yato turned back to Yukine, arms remaining at his sides. 

Hiyori and Kazuma wore matching looks of horror and understanding. It seemed they had caught on and weren’t planning to break up the fight. Good. Yato wasn’t keen on taking another beating like this one just to get this kid to chill the fuck out. He observed Yukine’s aura again and saw that despair and confusion were starting to overtake the anger. Finally. 

“Why the hell aren’t you fighting back you coward?” Yukine screamed, aiming a punch to Yato’s face. Yato reeled back several steps as he was knocked off balance. 

“Because then I would be just another person hitting you,” Yato said quietly. 

Yukine’s face contorted and he grabbed Yato by the front of his shirt and threw him across the room. Yato’s shirt tore along the shoulder seam.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” 

The entire right side of Yato’s shirt slipped off and hung only by the cuff, revealing his bare chest and back as he picked himself up off the floor again. 

“I think you do. For me, it was my dad. Who was it for you? Mom? Dad? Brother?” 

He straightened up, watching Yukine’s face change as he took in Yato’s words and scars. Kazuma’s face stiffened in recognition and Hiyori gasped in surprise, but Yato focused only on Yukine. Emotions raced across Yukine’s face and Yato recognized all of them. Rage, confusion, despair, grief, fear, and then finally, one that Yato hoped to soon become acquainted with. 

“My dad…” Yukine answered, voice barely more than a whisper. “You’re just like…”

“I’m just like you, Yukine.” 

“S-so?” Yukine said, now struggling to hold onto the anger that was so much easier to deal with than the pain that was threatening to engulf him now. But Yato wouldn’t let him be swallowed. “Why should I care what happened to you?” 

“You shouldn’t, but what happened to you and me wasn’t right, and it wasn’t fair. I care about what happened to you and I know better than anybody how badly it can fuck you up.” 

“Shut UP!” Yukine cried, pinning Yato to the wall, but the attack held none of the force of his previous hits. He was just going through the motions now. 

“The worst part is that you never feel safe, do you?” Yato asked quietly, “you became a kung fu master and he still scares the shit out of you, doesn’t he?”

“I’m a better fighter than he ever was!”

“You’re a better fighter, and you’re surrounded by the best fighters in the world, but you’re scared, aren’t you?”

“...yes,” Yukine whispered. 

“That’s not something to be ashamed of, I’m scared too.” Yato reached up and laid a comforting hand on Yukine’s arm.

“I just want to feel safe.” His voice cracked on the last word and Yato sagged. 

“How about this, Yukine? I promise I’ll protect you no matter who or what threatens you. No matter where I am or what I’m doing, I’ll protect you. No matter what, if you’re hurt or in danger, if you send word to me, I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

“Stupid, you can’t even fight.”

“Maybe I just haven’t found someone worth fighting for yet.” 

Yukine let out a quiet sob and the arm at Yato’s throat loosened, then fell. Yato reached out and wrapped Yukine in a hug, ignoring the protest of his damaged limbs. An agonized sound escaped from Yukine’s lips as he wrapped his arms tightly around Yato, sobbing openly now. 

“I’m sorry!” He cried. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean it! I didn’t mean to hurt you!” 

Yato’s lips quirked into an ironic smile. It had felt a lot like Yukine  _ had  _ meant to hurt him, but he didn’t say that. 

“It’s alright Yukine. I’m alright. You didn’t hurt me.” 

“I’m sorry! I’ll be better!”

“It’s okay, Yukine. I’m here now. I’ve got you. I’ll protect you. You’re safe, I promise.” 

Yato squeezed him tighter and struggled to keep his agonized cry in his chest where it couldn’t make Yukine feel any worse. He hadn’t realized before Yukine had started squeezing how badly bruised he was. 

“Well I’ll be damned,” Daikoku sniffed, startling Yato. 

He turned to the door, still not releasing the crying Yukine, and saw the rest of the Six standing there, gaping. Daikoku was crying openly, Kofuku was wiping her nose on her sleeve, grinning, and Bishamon was looking at him with something that might have actually been begrudging respect. It took several more minutes for Yukine to calm down enough to release Yato, and when he did Yato put on his best smile, not letting on that he was in an incredible amount of pain. 

“Holy crap, your eye!” Yukine exclaimed when he got a look at Yato’s face. 

“What? What’s wrong with it?” Yato looked around the rest of them when Yukine didn’t reply. Daikoku snorted. 

“That’s quite the shiner.” 

“I’m sorry!”

“You look like a panda!” Kofuku laughed. “That’s it, you’re the kung fu panda!”

“Trainee Panda!” Bishamon laughed. Yato groaned, he got the feeling that this one was going to stick. 

“Let me get you some ice so it doesn’t swell up!” Yukine exclaimed suddenly, rushing out of the room. 

With Yukine no longer holding him up Yato’s knees gave out and he coughed painfully, groaning. 

“Holy  _ shit _ , I thought I was gonna die. He hugs  _ so tightly _ .” He looked down at the bruises that were forming on his bare chest. “He packs a helluva punch too.” Yato poked one of the bruises and winced, then did it again. To what purpose this served he couldn’t be sure, he knew only that it had to be done. “Fuck, the bruises from Tigress were just starting to clear up.”

“You took some pretty heavy hits,” Kazuma chided as Hiyori knelt in front of Yato and smacked his prodding hand away. 

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” he said, grimacing. 

“I can’t believe you got through to him, we’ve been trying for years.” 

“It’s not like he’s magically fixed, he just needed someone like him to trust. It’s easier when someone understands you.”

“And you  _ had  _ to let him beat you up?” Bishamon asked. Again, Yato noticed the respect she was trying hard to hide.

“I didn’t know what else to do, it’s what my boyfriend would do for me. Yukine needed to vent and I can take a punch.” 

Yukine returned with a cold compress and pressed it to Yato’s face, giving him a stern look when Yato flinched away. 

“You need to keep the ice on it, or it’ll swell up and you won’t be able to see!”

“Sure thing, Mom.” 

“I’m serious!”

“Okay, fine! Geez!” 

“It sure is a mess in here,” Kofuku said, nudging at a fallen roll of bandages with her foot. 

“I’ll clean it up!” Yukine said. “It’s my fault.”

“To be fair I started it… again,” Yato said, grinning lopsidedly. 

“Yukine why don’t I help you tidy up? Hiyori can tend to Yato’s wounds in his room where he can rest.”

“Good idea,” Hiyori said. She snatched a few things off the floor and hoisted Yato to his feet and half carried him to his room.

* * *

Yato eased off the remaining half of his shirt as Hiyori opened up a jar of foul-smelling salve and dipped her fingers in. Yato wrinkled his nose. 

“That smells terrible.” 

“It’ll help, I promise,” she said, using her other hand to pointedly replace the cold compress on his eye. 

Yato took the compress from her and rested it on his throbbing face, gulping and turning his gaze to the ceiling as Hiyori drew nearer. He jumped when her fingers, covered in the medicine, touched his chest, and she paused. 

“Sorry, it’s cold.” 

“You’re fine.” 

Yato tried desperately to distract himself from the feeling of Hiyori massaging the salve into his chest, and from the fact that she was alone in the room with him while he was half-naked. After baring his pain to the world, he felt naked and vulnerable. His scars had felt like secrets. He  _ had  _ been hiding them after all.

“These scars…” she said quietly, tracing one that traveled from his left shoulder all the way to his belly button. She didn’t seem to be aware she was touching him, or of the fact that Yato was  _ extra _ aware of it. 

“My dad. Well, some of them, anyway. That one I got from a guy with a grudge and a sword.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she dipped her fingers back into the salve and began applying it to his bruises again. 

“Don’t worry, Hiyori, you’re helping me.” 

“I can’t believe what you just did for Yukine, that was so stupid and violent, and-”

“Geez, tell me how you really feel.” 

“And amazing.” His eyes snapped onto hers and his cheeks flushed at her gentle smile. “You’re so private, it must have been hard for you to say all that in front of everyone.” 

“Well, to be fair I didn’t know the others were at the door. I thought I was just telling you, Kazuma, and Yukine.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“You can  _ ask _ .”

“Did you mean what you said to Yukine?” 

“Yeah, I meant all of it.” 

Hiyori went back to tending his bruises, and Yato unwound in the quiet intimacy of the moment. She was so close now, taking care of him, and she wasn’t running. She seemed happy to be there even, and he was comfortable with her there, in his room. Despite this, he gulped in preparation as Hiyori moved around to tend to his back. He knew what she would find there. 

“Oh my God,” she breathed, “Yato.” 

He knew which scars she was looking at before her fingers grazed his back, tracing from one shoulder to the opposite hip so very gently, raising gooseflesh all over his body. His father’s harsh voice overtook him briefly, accompanied by the cracking of a whip. Yato gripped the tatami hard and swallowed the lump in his throat as he waited for the question that she was struggling to find the words for. 

“Who…?”

“He did,” his voice was hoarse with the effort of answering. 

“Your father?” She took his silence as confirmation. “How?” It took a long time to work the answer out of his mouth and into the silence. 

“A whip. I was… young.” 

“Why?” She asked desperately. “How could  _ anyone _ ?”

“I tried to run. He punished me. Story of my life apparently.” 

“That’s- I’m so sorry.” Yato leaned his head back and closed the eye that wasn’t covered with ice. 

He was quiet and still for a long while, or at least it felt that way. For the entire time he was quiet, Hiyori didn’t move, just sat, and watched him think. Her presence behind him was steadying. Here with Hiyori in the quiet, he was okay. He wasn’t afraid. Without opening his good eye, he spoke. 

“Hiyori, will you tell me a story?” 

“What kind of story?” She asked gently, moving closer. He felt her shift and his heart jolted as she resumed working the ointment into his skin. 

“A happy one, one about you.” 

He heard the smile in her words.

“Alright, how about I tell you about my first teddy bear?”

“Sounds riveting,” he sighed, smiling. 

“Well, it wasn’t my first, to tell you the truth, just my favorite.” 

“I can’t believe you lied to me.” Hiyori chuckled. 

“I got him when I was four, and he was about four inches tall. My father won him in a carnival for me and I absolutely loved him. He was so small that I could fit him in my sleeve or my pocket and take him anywhere, so of course, I did.”

“Of course.” 

“He was like my good luck charm.”

“Did he bring you luck?”

“I think he did. I carried him during my audition for the Striking Six, and that worked out well. I didn’t carry him the day we raided the dog fight- I was worried a dog would eat him- and that  _ didn’t  _ work out. I still have him. He’s under my pillow next door. He makes me feel safe when I’m scared.” Yato smiled. 

“I never had a bear.”

“I’m sorry.” 

After a moment of silence Hiyori leaned forward and rested her forehead on Yato’s bare shoulder, her hair tickling his ear as she covered his hand with hers and rested her other palm against his hip. When she spoke, her words were barely more than a whisper, he only made them out because of her proximity.

“I wish I could have helped Yukine.” 

“Me too.”

“I wish I could have helped you.”

“Me too.” 

He adjusted his head, so it leaned on her shoulder and used his thumb to stroke the fingers that covered his idly. They stayed that way for an exceptionally long time until Yato had almost forgotten that there were other people in the world. 

Footsteps startled them both and they leapt apart, though they had done nothing wrong. The door opened to reveal Hiyori maintaining a professional distance while applying the last of the ointment. 

“You still aren’t done?” Yukine asked, carrying a tray of food. 

“I just wanted to make sure that I did as much as I could so he wouldn’t be in as much pain in the morning.” 

“What do you have there?” Yato asked, looking at the tray. 

“Oh, Kazuma made dinner and had me bring it up since it’s me and Hiyori’s night for guard duty anyway.” 

“Oh, right, I forgot.” 

Yukine handed him the tray and sat with his back against the wall as Yato ate, chatting idly and oblivious to the tension in the air. Hiyori backed up until she was in her place by the door and looked anywhere but at Yato until he laid down to go to sleep.

“Goodnight guys,” He said. 

“Night,” Yukine replied. 

“Night,” Hiyori echoed, meeting his eyes at last. He smiled. 

Yato fell asleep with one arm reaching toward Hiyori. 


	7. 6- Moonlight Over Water

“So, I just roll all this stuff up inside the bread?” Yukine asked, looking skeptical. 

“Yes!” Yato encouraged. “When you bake the bread, the ham will cook, and the cheese will melt, and you’ll have a really nice breakfast roll with ham and cheese in it. Fast, easy, and yummy!” 

“But won’t the fat from the ham make the bread gummy?”

“It will absorb and make the whole thing taste great. I make these all the time. You just pop it in the oven and be sure that you don’t let it get too hot.” 

“How do I know if it’s too hot?” 

“I’m about to show you! Look, hold your hand out to the fire. Feel that? As long as it’s around this temperature it’ll be alright. You’ll get the hang of it!”

Yukine gave Yato another dubious look but started assembling the breakfast rolls with his supervision. Hiyori watched from the table with a smile, glad that the two of them were finally getting along. After the outburst a week ago, they had become remarkably close, and already Yukine was changing. He’d even asked Yato to teach him how to cook. 

Yato opened the oven door and Yukine slipped the tray inside, then crouched in front of the fire to check the temperature. 

“If you open the oven too often all the heat will escape and they won’t cook right, so keep that to a minimum.” The two of them moved from in front of the stove to sit at the table with Hiyori.

“Are you ready for your first day of training, Yato?” Hiyori asked, disapproval coloring her voice. 

She still thought it was too early for him to be putting so much strain on his ankle, but Yukine wanted to make up for the injury by training him in self-defense, and he promised not to put an inordinate amount of stress on the joint. 

“It’s equivalent exchange, you teach me cooking and I’ll teach you how not to get your ass kicked,” Yukine had said. 

“I think Yukine is going to be better at cooking than I am at fighting,” Yato said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. 

_ Is that so? _ Hiyori thought. 

“Do you remember the burnt oatmeal on your first day here? I think you two are on the same level,” she said. Yato grimaced. 

“It was kinda hard to forget.” 

“What was that?” Yukine snapped. 

“Nothing! You’re a fine cook, just lacking instruction!” 

Kofuku and Daikoku entered the kitchen hand in hand and smiled at the three of them sitting comfortably at the table together. 

“What a cute little family you three are!” Kofuku trilled. Yukine scoffed.

“I’m almost surprised you survived the night, Yato.” He winced. 

“Kazuma was there to keep Bishamon from killing me.” 

“Lucky for you.” Yato nodded. 

“Something smells good though. What are you cooking, Yato?” Kofuku asked. 

“I’m not making anything, Yukine is!” Yato declared proudly. “I’m teaching him how to cook.” Kofuku and her husband exchanged a wary look. 

“I’m looking forward to seeing how it turns out!” Hiyori said. “I’m sure they’ll be great, Yukine!” Yukine didn’t look so sure.

“So, what is it? I’m starving,” Daikoku said. 

“Ham and cheese rolls. You roll them all up together and bake them.” 

“Sounds as delicious as it smells.” Yato nodded. 

“It’s always a fan favorite! Even Dad liked them, and he never liked anything I did!”

Silence met Yato’s declaration and he recoiled slightly in his chair, realizing what he’d done. Tension stretched thin while everyone fumbled for something to say to restore the light atmosphere. Yukine was the first to find his voice.

“Since Yato is so helpless I thought I would start teaching him some self-defense,” he said to Kofuku, who already knew this. Yato breathed a sigh of relief as Kofuku replied and the easy conversation was restored. 

“I think it’s a great idea!”

“I personally think I’ve been doing a pretty good job with my whole running away thing up until now,” Yato said lightly. 

“Yeah, sure. I felt the place where the soup lady broke your wrist. You suck at running away too,” Yukine deadpanned. 

“Especially with your ankle how it is now,” Hiyori reminded. 

“That’s so mean! I’ve escaped plenty of ass-kickings that you don’t even know about because they didn’t happen because I ran away!”

“I’m sure,” Yukine prodded. “Everyone, behold the Dragon Warrior, we call him because whenever there’s danger he takes flight and escapes.” 

Laughter rang around the room as Yato spluttered indignantly. Eventually, he was unable to continue pretending to be upset and broke into laughter with the rest of them. 

Yukine got to his feet to check on the rolls and Yato watched him, smile yet to fade, as Yukine puzzled in front of the oven briefly before closing the door again. 

“Not done yet,” he declared with a false bravado that was ruined when he looked to Yato for approval. Yato gave it with a nod and Yukine returned to his seat at the table. 

“You seem to be a really good teacher, Yatty!” Kofuku commented. 

“No, Yukine is just a good student! He’ll be a master chef in no time! Then I’ll be able to sit back and enjoy a nice meal without worrying that one of you gave me food poisoning.” 

“Yeah right,” Hiyori said, “you haven’t even lived here a month and you’ve already claimed the kitchen as your domain. You’ll never relinquish control of it.” 

“The kitchen is the heart of the home, Hiyori,” he said seriously. 

_ Is that what this is? Home? _

“Of course, Yato, my apologies.” 

“A good shared meal is the soul of any family,” Daikoku began, “I remember Kofuku’s and my first meal together.” Yukine and Hiyori groaned but Yato sat up in his seat, eager to hear the tale. He  _ was  _ a romantic after all. 

“Your first date?” He asked. 

“Yeah, we had festival food under the moon.” 

“They caused so much ruckus with their ‘little competitions’ that they were thrown out,” Hiyori said, amused. 

“We were young and in love, and the two of us just wanted to win the other the biggest prize!”

“That’s so cute!”

“Are we giving you ideas for your first date with Hiyori?” Kofuku purred, winking. 

Yato’s cheeks tinged slightly pink. The intimate moment two of them had shared a week ago sprung to the front of his mind. 

“I happen to like a little more pizazz than festivals,” Yato declared, pretending he couldn’t feel the heat filling his face. 

“Are you saying my first date didn’t have enough pizazz, kid?” Daikoku growled. Yato flinched. 

“No, not at all! I just like big gestures with all the drama!”

“And did your  _ ex _ -boyfriend?” 

“He did  _ not _ ,” Yato said glumly. “It definitely stifled my creativity, but next time I meet someone I’ll get the chance for grand romantic gestures!”

“And how many grand dates have you planned?”

“A few!”

“How many of them ended badly?”

“...most of them. A few of them worked out pretty well though, and there was this one girl who  _ really  _ liked them! I was pretty bummed out when I had to skip town. That was the place with the soup lady, and it wasn’t serious enough for me to ask for her help with my medical bills.”

“So, you fled with broken bones  _ and  _ a broken heart,” Yukine said, trying and failing to conceal his smile. 

“Hahaha, you’re so funny! I’ll remember this moment when you have your first broken heart!”

“Like I’d tell you about my love life! You’re a total disaster, why would I want your input?”

“I am not a disaster!”

“Your favorite solutions to any problem are: ‘run away’ and ‘let it beat me up and hope it helps’!” Yato had no defense against the truth, so he stayed silent, arms crossed in protest. Yukine recognized his victory and gave Yato a smug look. 

“Don’t worry kiddo, if you ever need advice you’ve got me and my wife to ask!” Yukine looked like the very idea of that was terrifying. Yato laughed, still sore that Yukine had correctly labeled him a disaster. His indignant sniff alerted him to the progress of the bread.

“Yukine, why don’t you check the bread?” Yato suggested. 

Yukine got to his feet and opened the oven door, peering in carefully.

“I think it’s done.”

“And what makes you say that?”

“Well, it’s golden brown like you said it should be.” Yato grinned. 

“You have mastered the art of the ham and cheese rolls, Trainee Monkey.” Yukine rolled his eyes and removed the food from the heat.

* * *

“You want to protect your head first. Remember how the soup lady hit your head and you couldn’t fight back? We want that to  _ not  _ happen. Hold your hands like this so they protect your face better.” Yato obliged, keeping his elbow too high and his stance too low. Yukine corrected his posture before falling into the same pose himself. 

“Now throw a punch at my face and I’m going to show you how to block it.” Yato nodded and used a shabby version of the punch Yukine had just shown him. 

Yato had to admit, now that he was beginning to train for real it was taking a lot more effort to pretend to be a beginner than he’d thought it would. He could barely keep the things he  _ actually  _ knew and the things he was  _ supposed  _ to know straight. If he caught on too slowly it could be suspicious and reveal he was feigning ignorance, and the same was true if he caught on too quickly. It was all so convoluted that it made his head hurt.

Yato threw his terrible punch and Yukine snatched his wrist and used it to sling him around and throw him across the mat. Yato decided to stay on his feet, mostly because the gray sky was already making his wrist ache and he didn’t feel like taking a spill.

“That’s kinda like what Kazuma did to me on the first day,” Yato mentioned. Yukine nodded. 

“It’s good because it can be disorienting if your opponent isn’t expecting it, and it can be used in conjunction with your favorite move: running away.” Yato grinned sheepishly. 

“I don’t know if I can grab onto someone’s wrist like that. I’m kinda skinny and not very strong.” 

“You don’t have to be strong. This move takes advantage of the shifting balance of someone throwing a punch. It’s perfect for a scrawny weakling like you.” 

Yato nodded. “Okay, so what are the steps?” 

“Hold out your fist again.” Yato obliged and Yukine walked him through all the steps slowly, explaining each one and reminding Yato of Kazuma. 

“...that sounds like a lot.” 

“It’s really not that much, once you practice, you’ll get the hang of it.” Yato gave him a dubious look and hoped that he wasn’t overselling it. 

Yato threw another fake punch and Yukine walked him through the rebuttal one more time before asking Yato to replicate the process, albeit very slowly. He asked questions to seem like an active learner and couldn’t help but think that Yukine would actually be surprisingly good at this teaching thing if his student wasn’t being intentionally dense. Yukine was a bit impatient, but Yato was asking him to repeat the same information over and over again so he could hardly hold that against him.

“I’ve never met someone who had so much trouble figuring out what to do with his feet,” Yukine huffed when Yato tripped over himself for the third time.

“Wow, it’s almost like you guys picked a random dude off the street and decided to treat him like a kung fu master.” Yukine sighed heavily and dragged his hands down his face. 

“Okay, okay, that’s fair. Let’s run through it one more time. I’ll show you how to move your feet and  _ pay attention. _ ” Yato nodded solemnly and decided to stop tormenting the poor kid and get it right this time if only to save Yukine’s sanity. 

While they were working the gong rang to signal their lunch break and Yukine sighed in defeat. 

“One more time,” Yato suggested, bouncing on the balls of his feet, and punching the air playfully. “I’m sure I’m just about to get it.” Yukine smiled and nodded. 

“Alright, one more time, and then I’m dumping you on Kazuma and you’ll be his problem.”

* * *

“Okay, okay, okay,” Yato said, trying to catch his breath, head spinning from laughter. “So, you can put your hands anywhere  _ but  _ behind your back, because that’s where the ‘out’ hands go.” Hiyori was giggling at the ridiculous pose Yato had struck when he’d aimed an attack at her. Yukine was now frozen with both his arms above his head and his mouth hanging open with laughter. 

“What did you say this game was called again, Yato?” Hiyori asked, face flushed. 

“Different villages have different names for it, the kids who taught it to me called it Ninja.”

“And what about  _ all of this  _ screams ‘ninja’ to you?” Yukine asked, gesturing to Yato’s ridiculous pose as his balance wavered. He’d trapped himself balancing on one foot, leaning forward dangerously, one arm thrust outward to get Hiyori’s hand and the other flung out for balance. 

“I’m not the one who named it!”

“Alright, alright, it’s my turn, right?” Hiyori asked, and Yato nodded stiffly, trying not to throw off his balance. 

Hiyori narrowed her eyes, considering each still in play hand carefully. Yato noticed how beautiful her focused face was, but he refused to be distracted. Ninja was  _ his  _ game and he wouldn’t lose the first round the other two had ever played. There were  _ limits  _ to how much of an idiot he was willing to pretend to be. He looked nervously between Yukine and Hiyori. Loss was a real possibility, Hiyori moved like the wind. Yukine’s face said he was thinking the same thing-- that Hiyori was going to destroy them both and enjoy doing it. 

Like a streak of lightning, she spun in place, keeping one foot firmly planted on the ground so she wouldn’t fall. Her high ponytail whisked through the air, trailing after her like a comet and catching Yato’s eye so he didn’t see her feint towards Yukine and veer in his own direction. Their hands collided and Hiyori whooped in victory while Yato and Yukine laughed. 

“You’re so competitive!” Yato said, tucking the out hand behind his back. 

“I play to win!” The three of them laughed again. 

Yato had forgotten what it felt like to laugh until your sides hurt until today. Albeit, his pain could have something to do with the still-healing bruises on his ribs that he got from a certain blonde kid. 

“What are you guys doing?” Kazuma asked, startling a small shriek from Hiyori that triggered even more laughter from Yato and Yukine. 

“It looks like they’re playing Samurai,” Bishamon said, taking in the ridiculous poses and the frankly shameful remnants of what used to be a circle. 

“We call it Ninja! Do you guys want to play?” Yato asked, craning his neck painfully to look at the newcomers. 

“I’m not familiar with the rules,” Kazuma said. 

“It’s pretty intuitive, we’ll teach you. We can just start over since Hiyori was winning.”

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Yato laughed again and pressed his palms together in front of his chest. Yukine, Hiyori, and Bishamon did the same; Kazuma copied their movements, looking confused. 

“The rules are: you can only move on your turn or when someone is trying to attack you. You have to hit their hand from the wrist to the fingertips, out hands are tucked behind your back and you can’t tuck in play hands behind your back. Once both your hands are out you lose.”

“Sounds simple enough.”

“Once I say ‘ninja’ you strike a pose and the game starts. Turns are one at a time around the circle, I’ll start.” 

Bishamon gave Kazuma a reassuring smile and nod. 

“I’m going to destroy Yato,” she said. 

“Ha! As if! I’m a Ninja master!”

“You mean Samurai!”

“I mean Ninja!”

“Alright you two, stop fussing! Let’s play!” Hiyori interjected. 

“Ninja!” Yato cried. All of them struck silly poses, Kazuma slightly after the others like he thought they were playing a trick on him. 

Bishamon snorted when Hiyori struck a ridiculous exaggeration of the famous ‘Crane’ pose, with one leg lifted to her chest and her arms extended in full. Despite her uneven and completely ludicrous stature she remained stone still, perfectly balanced. Yato couldn’t help but to both admire and laugh at her. She looked  _ ridiculous _ . 

“Oh my  _ God _ , Hiyori,” Yato laughed. 

Jubilation rang off the walls as Yato leaped forward towards Yukine, off-balance because all his weight rested on his uninjured foot. Yukine spun away and Yato over-balanced. He swung his arms wildly to stay upright, coming to rest in a position that resembled a broken windmill. Everyone laughed again when Yukine jumped for Hiyori but fell on his face and had to reset himself in an approximation of what his pose had been before he’d fallen. Kazuma caught on quickly, it wasn’t a hard game after all, but it wasn’t long before Yato caused the first upset of the game by striking out one of Bishamon’s hands before she’d gotten his. 

“Ha!” He cried, “I have my revenge at last!”

Bishamon caused another upset straight away when she turned around and attacked Kazuma rather than going for Yato like everyone had been expecting. The match ended with Bishamon winning a narrow victory over Hiyori. Apparently, the group had been rowdy enough to draw the attention of the freshly awakened Kofuku and Daikoku, who came to investigate. 

“You guys are playing Warrior!”

“It’s Ninja!”

“It’s Samurai!” 

Daikoku laughed. “Well no matter what it’s called, let us in, my lady and I are awesome at it!” Yato grinned. 

“The more the merrier.” 

“I don’t know how some of you guys have never played before. I thought for sure your students would have taught it to you if nothing else.” 

“Now that you mention it, it  _ would  _ be a fun activity for the kids, maybe on Fridays,” Hiyori said. “I may just start using it for my younger classes because it’s relevant and fun.” 

“Speaking of younger students, Yato-”

“Love that transition,” he grumbled. 

“Why don’t you try to keep your mental wall up during the next round? It would be good practice.” Yato huffed. 

“How did this turn into homework?”

“So, new game?” Yukine asked. 

“I don’t think I’ve exercised this much in months,” Yato said. 

“What, don’t you get enough exercise running from your problems?” Kazuma asked. The group roared with laughter. 

“Damn, alright, fine.” Kazuma grinned and took a sip of water.

* * *

Yato reigned victorious over a round where Kazuma declared his mental barrier ‘passable’ which prompted him to be such a sore winner that he was the first person out of the next round because every single person targeted him. In retaliation he very  _ nearly _ won the next round. The others had a grand time catcalling the final showdown between Yato and Daikoku where Yato was forced to be twice as silly and work twice as hard to make up for Daikoku’s superior reach. 

“Well that was a great way to waste most of the day,” Bishamon said lightly, leaning against Kazuma and stealing his drink.

“It  _ was  _ a pretty good workout though,” Hiyori replied. 

“Yeah for you!” Yukine shot back, “You’re  _ crazy _ competitive! I didn’t even know human shoulders could move that way!” 

Kazuma laughed. “We can make up for the lost training tomorrow, but today was still productive. We got a decent workout because Hiyori is  _ feral _ ,” she nodded in acknowledgment, “and we learned Yato has really good reflexes.” Yato blinked. Damn, he hadn’t even thought about that. “But tomorrow night is the blood moon, anyway.”

“Oh yeah, it’s Yato’s first!”

Yato missed Hiyori’s declaration, he was already years and miles away, atop the rooftop of a faraway inn. He’d had his first kiss with Rabo there, with the blood-red moon watching over them. They had been returning home from their third job together, their third date as Yato had called it in his mind. He had snuck out of their shared room and climbed onto the roof to watch the moon go across the sky, listening to the soft music of the night around him. Eventually, he took notice of Rabo watching him from the shadows, red eyes glowing like two miniature blood moons. 

_ “It’s so peaceful here,” Yato said. “I wish I could stay forever.”  _

_ “Your father told me you like to run.” _

_ “I do, but not tonight.”  _ Tonight, I just want to stay with you.  _ Rabo sat down beside him and Yato glanced at him, biting his lower lip.  _

_ “I enjoy fighting with you, you’re a graceful killer,” Rabo said.  _

_ “We should be partners more often, I like having friends my age.” _

_ “You consider us… friends?”  _

_ Yato looked down at his hands, all adolescent nerves and unsureness. _

_ “I was hoping we could be more than friends…”  _

_ A hand slid into Yato’s hair and turned his head, pulling him closer to Rabo.  _

_ They kissed that night under a moon the color of Rabo’s eyes.  _

“Helloooo~ Earth to Yato~” Kofuku sang, waving her hand in front of Yato’s face. He jumped when he re-entered the present, that night under the blood moon retreating into the recesses of his mind. 

“Huh, what?” 

“Where did you go?” Hiyori asked. 

“Wherever it was you looked pretty happy to be there,” Yukine commented. 

Yato couldn’t hide the smile that stretched his already sore cheeks as tugged at his earlobe. He looked around the content faces around him and wondered  _ what harm could it do?  _ His grin widened as he leaned his head back to address the rafters. 

“My boyfriend kissed me for the first time under a blood moon,” he said, “we were just teenagers then.”

“Oooh! We  _ have  _ to hear the story now!” Kofuku squealed.

“That pretty much is the story. I climbed onto the roof to look at the moon and he followed me, then he kissed me.” He pressed his smile between his lips as he remembered the way his heart had hammered when it happened. 

“So, he was your first kiss? How cute!” Yato laid back and crossed his arms behind his head, closing his eyes. 

“He was my first everything, my first friend, my first love, my first...uh, what’s important about the blood moon to you guys?” He switched topics, remembering there was a child present. The following silence made him open his eyes to glance around. 

“It’s a surprise,” Hiyori replied cagily. 

“Alright?”

“You’ll like it, I promise!”

“If you say so,” Yato said, “Surprises are nice.” He’d certainly been surprised when Rabo kissed him. 

Yato closed his eyes again and sighed contentedly, enjoying the peace that blanketed the palace. He was surrounded by the strongest fighters in the country, far enough away from the Forest of Despair that his Father seemed a million miles away. 

Yato had let his guard down on accident again. They’d have to work on that, but for now, it was convenient. Kazuma was able to investigate his faint aura and see what appeared to be bone-deep contentment. Yato was well and truly at peace in this moment. There was none of the killer intent that had risen up when he’d been cornered on the day of the festival, and none of the dark well of  _ something  _ that opened up in his chest seemingly at random. 

Who was he? Certainly, Kazuma didn’t like not knowing, but the peace in him now, and the utter lack of ill-intent since the festival suggested that maybe that problem could stand to be pushed to the back of his mind for now. There was a raw innocence in his eyes sometimes that mixed like oil and water with the malice he’d seen that day. Perhaps with enough trust built it was a secret Yato would confide on his own. 

Yato’s past was a mystery and a potential menace, but somehow Kazuma found himself overlooking the deceit in Yato’s words for the honesty in his peace.

* * *

“Out of ten how hard were you trying that time?” 

“About a two,” Kazuma said sympathetically, watching the sweat soaked Yato collapse and scream in frustration. 

“You’re being too hard on yourself. We’ve been working on this for what, a couple of weeks? I don’t know anyone who caught on in that amount of time.” 

_ Yeah but no one else has a dad who likes to make them kill people.  _

There was that dark well of emotions again. Here one moment and gone the next, seemingly without purpose or explanation. He could never catch on to what exactly it was triggering the mood swings, so he had no idea how to avoid them. 

“Do you wanna tell me why it’s so important that you learn this quickly?”

“No.” 

“It might help me teach you.” 

“It won’t.”

“In that case, I have another assignment for you, then. I want you to start keeping your mind protected at all times. For now, don’t worry about the strength of the barrier, just get used to keeping it up and learn to do it while you’re doing other things. The people who try to break into your mind rarely warn you first.”

“Alright, it’s not like it can make my fighting any worse anyway.” 

Kazuma chuckled. “Are you okay to keep going?”

“Yeah, there’s still a few more hours before I need to start work on dinner.”

* * *

Yato crawled into bed, bone-tired from a morning of self-defense training, a lunchtime game of ninja, and an afternoon of mental training with Kazuma. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow but was woken what felt like minutes later by something he couldn’t quite place. A disturbance in the energy of the palace. Bishamon and Kazuma’s eyes fell onto him when he stirred.

“Do you guys feel that?”

“Feel what?”

“Something is...wrong.”

“Your perception is improving,” Kazuma complemented. “Yukine is having a nightmare.” 

“And you’re just letting him?” Yato asked indignantly, crawling out of bed and across the room. Bishamon and Kazuma exchanged a look before following him, on their feet, as Yato crossed the hall and slid open the door into Yukine’s room. 

“Well here’s the problem, his candle is out,” Yato said at once. “He needs something to keep it from blowing out when his window is open.” 

“How did you know he’s afraid of the dark?” Kazuma asked, watching as Yato closed the window, then relit the candle. 

“He sleeps next to a lit candle, Kazuma. It wasn’t exactly the mystery of the century.” He knelt at Yukine’s bedside now, tucking the blankets more closely around him, “Hey there kiddo, it’s me. You’re safe now. You don’t have to be afraid; I won’t let anything hurt you,” he murmured, stroking Yukine’s hair. He whispered comfort until Yukine’s brow smoothed out and he resumed sleeping peacefully.

* * *

Bishamon glared at Yato’s sleeping form. She’d started to see the things Kazuma and Kofuku had been seeing from the beginning. As sure as she was that he was hiding something, she was also sure now that Yato genuinely cared for Yukine. 

She didn’t trust him for a minute. 

But Yukine did.

* * *

The air in the Jade Palace was stretched tight with anticipation the next day, but that didn’t stop Kofuku and Daikoku from running him into the ground during training. Yukine was busy helping Hiyori with her class, which left Yato at the mercy of their resident married couple who, as it turned out, were merci _ less _ . He’d been trying to distract them with talk of the blood moon, but they wouldn’t budge. Apparently, it was important to Hiyori that he be surprised.

“Well, your stay here was a bad surprise so I figure you’re due for a good one,” was all she would say when he’d badgered her about it that morning. He honestly hadn’t known how to reply to that, so he’d just watched her walk away to her morning class. 

His next attempt to keep the dynamic duo from working his fingers to the bone was asking them about their relationship, as they were normally all too eager to talk about how much they loved one another for  _ hours _ . He learned the hard way, however, that Kofuku was perfectly capable of telling him about their first kiss in detail while kicking his ass. Now  _ that  _ was impressive. 

“You want to hit pressure points to disable your opponent quickly,” Kofuku instructed, smiling sweetly as Yato massaged his throbbing arm. She jabbed him  _ hard  _ in the shoulder, temporarily numbing the entire limb. Now it just  _ hurt _ .  _ Nora loves to use pressure points too. What a nightmare _ . “I use my fans when they’re closed, but you could use your fist if you don’t have a suitable weapon.”

“Kofuku drew you a chart, you should study it. Memorize it so you can use it when the opportunity arises. It might save your life.” 

“Studying? Seriously? I thought this was a dojo, not a temple school!”

“Well for you it’s both, so stop yer whinin!”

“Attack me, Yato,” Kofuku said, and Yato sighed in resignation. This was going to end with him on the ground again. Not for the first time he wished he could fight them for real. 

He folded his fingers in the way Kofuku had shown him, something he actually hadn’t known before, and zeroed in on the place where her arm connected to her shoulder. It was one of the only targets she’d told him about that he remembered, and that was because Nora had used it against him in fights more than once. Yato lunged, keeping his stance sloppy, and winced when the impact of his hand on her arms jarred his many healing wounds. He’d managed to tolerate his many aches for most of the lesson, but they were starting to get worse. 

“You’re still pretty hurt, huh?” She asked, scanning him quickly. 

“It’s not so bad, I’m healing up.” 

“Sure thing, Trainee Panda,” Daikoku said.

Daikoku reached out with his foot and tapped it against Yato’s hurt ankle. Yato collapsed with a shout. He started to snap something angrily, but then remembered he was supposed to be maintaining his mental walls no matter what, so he turned his attention to throwing them back up hastily. 

“Better than I expected,” Kofuku commented. 

“I keep forgetting about this mental guard thing.”

“That’s normal, you’ll get better at it as time goes on.”

“That’s what Kazuma said.” 

“You two seem pretty close. We were all surprised after he scared you like that the other day.” Yato jerked his head in acknowledgment of this. Neither he nor Kazuma had told the others what had transpired between them, and Yato didn’t intend to.

* * *

“I’m glad you’re taking him with you tonight,” Tenjin said, “I want him to think of this as his home.” 

“He seems to be getting comfortable,” Kazuma told him. “He still won’t talk about whatever it is he’s hiding, but he told us about his first kiss.” When he said it out loud it sounded ridiculous. 

“He’s only telling you things that are harmless, but it’s still more than he was saying when he first got here. We can hardly blame him for being wary of us. We must be patient.”

“If you’re  _ certain _ that just letting him go isn’t best…” Hiyori said, distaste obvious in her voice. 

“I  _ am _ certain, Hiyori. Trust your master’s judgment. Staying here is what’s safest for Yato, even if he doesn’t know it yet.” Kazuma and Hiyori exchanged curious glances. 

“Perhaps if he knew the reason you were so insistent on keeping him here it might help. He is rightfully suspicious of us all. I’m not sure he believes we don’t know why you won’t let him go.”

“I will take your words into consideration, Kazuma, but for the moment I have nothing else to say on the matter. You are dismissed.” Hiyori opened her mouth like she was going to protest but thought better of it and followed Kazuma out of Tenjin’s private gardens.

* * *

“Yato, Yato wake up!”

Yato shook awake, blinking blearily, trying to figure out where he was. Hiyori’s face, glowing with excitement, took up most of his vision, but behind her he could see… rafters?  _ Oh.  _ That’s right, he fell asleep after his training session with Kofuku and Daikoku and they must have left him there. He pushed himself up and saw a bag of ice fall off his ankle. They must have placed it there while he was sleeping as a sort of apology for overworking the joint.

“It’s time to go!” Hiyori said. 

“Go where?”

“Just get up! Take this! I packed you a bag!” Yato took it, perplexed. Hiyori seized his wrists and dragged him to his feet. 

“Am I being kicked out?” He asked, looking again at the drawstring bag in his hand. 

“No, the moon is up, it’s time to go!”

“Am I being kidnapped? Again?”

“Yes!”

He blinked in surprise as she dragged him out of the dojo and into the garden, still radiating excitement. She had barely let him slip his shoes on before leaving the building. They joined the others where they were huddled around the unfortunate bush Yato had flattened on his first night here, all carrying sacks just like his. Yato shook his head, confused.  _ This might as well happen, _ he thought as the group started trekking silently through the gardens. There was probably nothing he could do to stop whatever was going on, these people were already so goddamn weird. 

They walked around the bamboo thicket towards a large open area Yato hadn’t fully explored yet. To his surprise Bishamon walked straight to the wall and vaulted over it, followed closely by Kofuku. Yato shouted in alarm when, without warning, Daikoku lifted him by the collar of his shirt and tossed his front half over the wall so he hung like a towel over a door. 

“I’m a full-grown man!” He said indignantly as Yukine was allowed to climb the wall on his own, unharassed. 

Hiyori sailed over his head and landed almost silently on the other side of the wall. 

“Don’t worry, Yato, just this once you have our permission to hop the fence,” She said.

Yato tried to wiggle himself into a position better for sliding off the wall and instead crashed to the ground gracelessly. 

“The grace and coordination you lack are truly astounding,” Bishamon shot. 

Yato glared, mostly annoyed that that had been real, not some front he put on to convince them he was hopeless. Some Dragon Warrior indeed.

Last but not least Daikoku leapt the wall, looking smugly at Yato as he dusted dirt off his butt. The group began walking again, this time uphill. It wasn’t very long before Yato got winded and started feeling his wounds. He managed to hide it for a while, determined to keep pace with the others, but inevitably Hiyori noticed his slight limp and sheen of sweat.

She wrapped her arm around his waist for support and Yato marched on, ignoring the burning in his cheeks, but as the ache in his ribs became louder, he felt he had to ask. 

“Are we there yet?”

“Nearly. Sorry, I was so excited for the surprise I didn’t think about how hiking would exacerbate your injuries.” 

“Do you need a break?” Yukine asked, appearing at Yato’s shoulder. 

“I’ll be alright,” Yato replied, grinning lopsidedly. “I’m excited about this surprise since you all were so determined to keep it from me. Daikoku and Kofuku just wouldn’t budge, no matter how much I asked.” 

“Well now you know how we feel trying to get you to tell us about yourself,” Kofuku replied. 

“Fair enough,” Yato laughed. 

Another five minutes of walking put them at their destination, and everyone enjoyed Yato’s slack-jawed expression as payoff for their secrecy. He stood before the tallest and most beautiful waterfall he’d ever seen. The water seemed almost red beneath the blood moon and Yato knew that there was something magical about this place. Already he was planning to paint this scene as soon as he got his hands on some paint. Hiyori took in his enchanted expression, grinning. 

“I present to you, the Blood Moon Falls.” 

“Wow,” was all Yato could manage.

“We come to the Blood Moon Falls at the first red moon of every year because waterfalls are said to purify and make everything new, and since we are forced to shed a lot of blood to prevent civilian casualties, we wash ourselves of the past in water that glows red like blood. It’s a very important ritual to us, and we wanted to share it with you because you’re part of our family now.” 

_ Family _ . 

Yato was unable to reply through the tightness in his throat. Hiyori had no way of knowing how much this meant to him, not just her determinate inclusion of him in her family, but the ritual itself.  _ They cleanse themselves of the blood they shed in the past and look forward to a brighter tomorrow.  _ Something tight and indescribable filled his chest, and he finally understood what Nora had meant when she said hope was the most painful feeling of all. He was suddenly overcome with the fierce desire to pass through the falls and let them make him new and then to fight,  _ really fight _ , for the first time in his life to become something good. 

“Yato, we brought you here to tell you that whatever it is you’re hiding, whatever it is you’re so scared to tell us, it doesn’t matter. You’re one of us now,” Kazuma said gently. 

Yato’s breath hitched and he gritted his teeth against the emotions that were struggling up his throat. Sure, they said that, but they didn’t know just how bad what he was hiding was. Not now, but for the first time Yato wasn’t thinking not  _ ever _ . When the burning of his eyes threatened to spill over onto his cheeks Yato slapped a hand over his face, shoulders shaking. Kazuma set a hand on his shoulder as Yato sobbed once, and Yukine drew attention away from him by declaring it was time for the picnic. 

Yato used the precious seconds that the group was distracted to compose himself, taking several long shaky breaths, keeping his face turned away from the others. Kazuma remained at his shoulder, offering wordless support, and Yato was unspeakably grateful for the tether to reality he provided. Without it he might have lost himself, but he managed to regain a delicate hold on his emotions before dashing away the stray tears that had managed to escape his eyes. He took one last bracing breath before throwing his shoulders back and rejoining the conversation. 

“We don’t go into the water until the moon reaches its zenith,” Hiyori said when Yato turned back to face the group. 

“So, the bag you gave me has…” he pulled it open, “towels and clothes?”

“Yup! Did you like your surprise?” Yato nodded once, throat feeling suspiciously tight again. 

“I did. I’m really glad you brought me I’ve, uh… never seen a waterfall this big before!”

“You’ll get an even better look at it after the picnic,” Hiyori said, pretending she didn’t notice the obvious deflection as she passed him a bento box. 

“Yeah, speaking of, who made the food?” He asked with trepidation.

“Oh, don’t worry, we bought this food.”

“Oh, thank God,” Yato said, opening his box and tucking in with no further hesitation. 

They had a lovely time eating their store-bought food and joking to pass the time before the moon reached its highest point. Yato listened as the group recounted stories of past blood moons and embarrassing things the others had done. Hiyori told the monkey story again. Even Yato participated, giving a few lighthearted anecdotes of strange people he’d met in his travels and unusual places that had offered him a bed for the night. 

“And I’m laying in bed thinkin ‘how nice of these people to offer me a bed for the night for free! They don’t even know me!’ but oh the naivety of youth. No one normal lets a stranger sleep in their house. Normal generous people offer you a place in their barn, but their  _ house _ ? So anyway, it’s the middle of the night, I’m all snuggled up in a futon for the first time in days, and then I hear this weird moaning sound.” 

“Um,” Hiyori started, eyes flicking to Yukine, hoping that this story didn’t become too adult for young ears. 

“And there’s this drumming sound?” Yato continued, seemingly unaware of Hiyori’s interruption, “and then I start hearing shouting, but it’s all in time with the drums, it sounds ritualistic, even from where I’m at. So now I  _ know _ something is up, so I climb out of bed and get dressed and sneak out to the yard and there they are, running, singing, and dancing around a big fire, but they’re all  _ totally naked _ .” 

“No way!” Yukine said, horrified. 

“Yes way! And all that noise was part of some weird ritual they were doing? I don’t know, but by this point I’m  _ way  _ freaked out and I just make a run for it. I didn’t know these people or what they were doing but I didn’t want to find out and end up being a sacrifice or something.” 

“Yet another installment of Yato Runs Away,” Bishamon finished to a chorus of laughter. 

“What would you have done? Gotten naked and started dancing with them?” Yato shot back. 

“Maybe.” Yato was about to call her a liar when he noticed the look on Kazuma’s face that said that she was probably telling the truth. Hiyori chuckled and looked to the sky. 

“Oh, look at the time! It’s almost time to start our way up the falls.” 

“What do you mean?” Yato asked. 

“Well, for your final surprise, just swimming in the water isn’t actually the ritual. The belief that waterfalls purify is based on the idea that when water reaches the edge of a cliff and falls it becomes new. So that’s what we’re going to do.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Yato asked, though he had heard her quite clearly. “You’re going to jump off the falls?”

“Not from the top, obviously, from a ledge right there.” She pointed to a place next to the falls that was a much more reasonable height. 

“You’re new, which means you have to go first, kiddo,” Daikoku said, grinning. “I remember my first time, when I came with my lady.” 

“Please don’t ever say those words out loud again,” Yato begged. Hiyori, pretending none of this had been said, began ushering Yato towards the waterfall. 

“Alright, alright, time to go. You’re injured so it will take you longer to climb.”

“Is this a prank? This feels like a prank.” 

“Nope, we all had to do it,” Kofuku said, “now it’s your turn! You’re one of us, so you gotta take the dive!” Yato grimaced but nodded. 

“He agreed faster than I thought he would.”

“I haven’t been able to change your minds on anything else, might as well just let it happen.” 

“Well hurry up and jump! None of us can until you do,” Yukine said.

“Okay, I’m going!”

Hiyori helped him up the path. It was precarious under the best conditions, but with his limp, he might have died without Hiyori’s help. He managed to get to the jumping-off point, and it looked  _ much _ higher from here than it had from the ground. 

“Holy shit,” he whispered. 

“Don’t worry. The falls have long since carved out the basin, so you don’t have to worry about hitting any rocks.” She gave him a few quick tips on how to hit the water safely then stood back, waving him forward. She mimed the proper stance and he nodded.  _ This  _ he made sure to get right because he didn’t want to find out what happened to him if he didn’t. 

Yato stepped off the ledge. 

His stomach dropped as he plunged through the air. He let out an undignified, though honest, scream before he hit the water and his body seized up in the cold. It was  _ freezing _ . When his head broke water he screamed again, gasping for air. 

“ _ Fuck!” _

“Language!” Daikoku scolded. “We’ve got youngins here!”

“It’s  _ cold _ !” Yato shouted back, the cold somehow forcing him to speak louder than he meant too as he backstroked away from the wall to allow the others to jump in after him. 

The Striking Six jumped in one after the other, and once they had all jumped a few of them climbed out of the water to take the jump again, this time for fun. Hiyori corralled the other two girls and they jumped in together, holding hands. Hiyori surfaced first, splashing water in every direction and howling like a wolf, propped up on a rock like a mermaid, face turned to the moon.

The moonlight glistened off the thin layer of water that covered her body, highlighting her delighted expression as the other two girls emerged from the water with equal vigor, joining in Hiyori’s howl. Once the long echoing note had ended they howled again; heads thrown back. The sound echoed off the cliffs and pierced the night air, lifting towards the sky. Yato turned to Kazuma with a confused look, but Kazuma merely shrugged. 

“Girls are weird,” he said. 

Yato laughed, warmth spreading in his chest despite the frigid water as the girls howled one last time, long and loud, for good measure before disintegrating into giggles and collapsing onto each other. They played an extremely competitive game of Marco Polo next. Yato grinned, finding he was having a blast, not to mention that the cold water was soothing his ankle. 

“Do you want to see something cool?” Hiyori whispered in his ear eventually. He nodded. “Follow me.” She swam right up to the waterfall, then ducked under the water and disappeared. Yato followed. 

He gasped when he surfaced in a moderately sized cave with a high ceiling. The sound of the falls thundered and echoed off the walls, but the red moonlight sparkled off the water gently, giving the cave a sense of magic. Yato climbed out of the water and stood in front of Hiyori, already shivering. 

“This is amazing! How did you find it?”

“Bishamon threw me backward during a game of chicken.” 

Yato snorted. “I’m somehow unsurprised.” 

He wrapped his arms around himself and looked more carefully around. It was freezing, but also held an unquestionable air of romance that Yato couldn’t ignore, being a romantic and all. Hiyori stepped closer and his breath caught. 

“Thank you for showing me this, it’s beautiful,” he said, stepping closer, “and thank you for bringing me tonight. It really has been great.” 

“We wanted you to feel like you belong. I know the circumstances leading to your stay here were…”

“Complicated?” He offered, feeling merciful.

“Yeah. We wanted to include you in something special to us to show you that we really do want you here.” 

“I’ve never really felt like I belonged anywhere,” he admitted.  _ Well, anywhere except with  _ her. 

He gulped and pushed the pain from that particular old wound away. 

“Well, hopefully, we can fix that,” Hiyori said softly, moving closer. Yato reached out instinctively and rested his hands on her hips.

“I think you can,” he murmured, leaning in. As their lips met he suppressed a chuckle of the irony of him having yet another first kiss under the light of the blood moon. Just like with Rabo. 

Yato reeled back, gasping, as red eyes forced their way to the front of his mind, reminding him of exactly who he was. The memories of every bad thing he’d ever done bombarded him and he took several steps back, breath shaking. Feeling horrified, Yato realized he had just kissed the best person he’d ever met, but he shouldn’t have. He didn’t deserve her. 

_ I can’t do this. I’m lying to her. _

“Yato, what’s the matter?”

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“No, Yato, I wanted-”

“There are things about me that you don’t know,” he said quickly, “things I can never say. But- I can’t be with you if you don’t know them. I’m not the person you think I am.” 

“Yato, that was the whole point of us bringing you here! You  _ can  _ say them!”

“You only think that because you don’t know them,” Yato said, choking on a sob. Hiyori was good, and kind, and she even liked him, but this was wrong. 

“Tell me! I promise I won’t hate you!”

The words nearly left him before he could stop them.  _ I’m a murderer, a God of Calamity _ . Yato caught them by their tails and yanked them back, stuffing them where they belonged. There was no way he could let himself believe he could tell them who he was. His hope from earlier vanished, leaving a gaping, throbbing hole in his chest. He’d finally started to feel like he could be free, like he was carving out a place for himself, but he wasn’t. 

He’d never be free from his sins.


	8. 7- All We've Got

Without looking at Hiyori, Yato stepped backward into the pool. He allowed the chill of the water and the pounding of the falls on his back to shock him into a controllable emotional state. It wouldn’t do to break down sobbing and have all the Six asking if he was okay, not when he’d already come so close to confessing his sins once tonight. Returning to Kazuma’s side, he did his best to keep his face neutral, but the questioning looks he was getting from the other man told him he was failing. 

Hiyori took a bit longer than Yato to emerge from behind the falls, no doubt choosing to regain her composure with the barrier of falling water between herself and the world. All the acting he’d been doing since he’d arrived at the Jade Palace served him well, however, no one but Kazuma seemed to notice anything was up with either of them. It became apparent once she reappeared that Hiyori was just as adept at concealing her emotions as Yato was. 

_ Or maybe she’s just not that into you, _ a dark voice said. He told that voice to shut the fuck up. 

Thankfully, Yato didn’t have to pretend for long. Shortly afterward Hiyori announced that it was time to get out and dry off or risk hypothermia. The girls slipped away to change in private and Yato found himself glad everyone had already seen his scars. He couldn’t imagine floundering for a lie after the night he’d had. 

_ As if it isn’t your choice to keep it from them _ , his father’s voice said snidely. 

The trip down the mountain was much easier than the trip up it, mostly because he spent the second half of the journey on Kazuma’s back. Yato was now thankful that he’d picked up on the tension between Yato and Hiyori. He offered to carry him after the second time he’d stumbled, saving him from having to walk down the mountain arm in arm with Hiyori. She never would have let him struggle on his own no matter what had happened between them. 

He was both grateful for and annoyed by Kazuma’s shrewdness because he was tactful enough to give Yato emotional space for the night, but he knew it wouldn’t be long before Kazuma started asking questions. He was so damn nosey.

* * *

The morning after the blood moon was a sleepy one. The day didn’t start until noon when Yato woke up and padded down to the kitchen, yawning, and rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. He didn’t realize he hadn’t had babysitters last night until he was already gathering ingredients, he’d been in too foul a place last night to notice. Yato wondered if the rest had simply forgotten about guard duty or if it had been another intentional show of faith. He wasn’t sure which would make him feel worse at this point. 

_ Guess I’ll find out tonight _ . 

A few minutes after Yato had started on breakfast/lunch Kazuma came in and sat down, looking more rumpled than Yato had ever seen him, 

“What happened last night?” He asked without preamble. 

“Nothing.” 

“Is everything alright?”

“It’s the same as it always was.”

“And how is that?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Yato snapped. 

“It matters to  _ me _ . You’re my friend. Yato, I was  _ there, _ and you’re still shit at guarding your emotions. I can guess at what happened but, like, what  _ happened _ ? Did you make a move on her?” Yato sighed. He should have known by now that Kazuma wasn’t going to give up. 

“I-not exactly.” 

“So, what happened?” 

“It was… more mutual but- I just can’t.” 

“ _ What _ ?  _ You _ pulled away? Are you  _ nuts _ ? You’ve been crazy about her from the start! Why?” 

“I have my reasons.” 

“Nu-uh. Tell me. Is it because of your ex-boyfriend?” 

“No- and yes. It’s complicated.” 

“How so?”

“I’ve just got a lot going on right now, okay? It’s not the best time for a new relationship.” 

“That’s a lame excuse.” 

“Well, it’s the only one I’ve got!” Yato snapped, slamming down his utensils. There were several seconds of silence where Yato glared at an impassive Kazuma before he sighed, defeated, and started working on breakfast again. “There are things that she doesn’t know about me, things that none of you know.” 

“You mean like everything about you?”

“Yeah, like everything about me,” Yato replied dismally. “There are things that would change her opinion of me. It wouldn’t be right.” 

“So, stop hiding them. 

“Oh, wow I hadn’t considered that-  _ I can’t.” _

“Why?”

“I can’t tell you that either.”

“Well, that’s a shock.” 

“What do you want from me?” Yato barked. 

“I’m your friend, Yato, I just want you to tell me what’s going on.” 

“Do you think I like this? That I don’t  _ want  _ to be able to tell you what’s going on?” The weight of his secret weighed on him like never before, forcing the words out of him before he could overthink them. 

_ Tell him _ , his mind whispered.  _ At least then they’ll know. Even if they hate you. It’s better than keeping this secret.  _

“I can’t.” 

“You can’t hide forever.” The words were ice in his veins. 

_ You can’t hide forever, Yaboku. I will always find you.  _ Yato’s jaw clenched as he shoved away the memory. 

“What just happened? Where did you go?” Kazuma asked, watching Yato carefully. 

“Mind your own business, Kazuma!” Yato shouted. 

A pointed cough drew their attention to the doorway where Kofuku stood, outlined by her husband, both looking concerned. Their expressions only pissed Yato off further. 

“Is everything okay?” Kofuku asked. 

“Yeah, it’s peachy, Kazuma just volunteered to make breakfast.” Yato shoved past the two of them and out of the room. 

Kazuma got to his feet and looked at the food Yato had been preparing, then sighed helplessly. 

“What’s the matter, Kazu?” 

“I have no idea what to do with this.”

* * *

Yato stormed through the palace, locking down on his aura and emotions so Kazuma couldn’t track his movements through the palace. He didn’t know where he was going, only that he wanted to get away from Kazuma and his prying questions.

‘You don’t belong here.’ 

_ I like it here. _

‘They’ll never love a killer like you.’

_ I want to stay _ . 

Yato burst through a door to an empty room, then stopped when he realized where he was. The dojo. Of course. It was where he always went to vent his frustrations when he was home. That was out of the question here, though, the risk of someone walking in and discovering his secret was too great. His damned secret, the source of all his frustrations. 

He glanced around, searching for something to vent his anger on. Someone had left the door to the storeroom open and through it, Yato saw the cool, welcoming glint of swords. Already his mind was forming a plan, the fire of anger fading away behind it. Yato approached the room, eyes never leaving the swords until he stepped through the door and sighed. A katana and wakizashi.  _ His favorites.  _ Almost like they’d been left there just for him. The alarm that had risen when he’d first learned of the swords screamed once again that he was walking into a trap.  _ Tenjin _ had purchased them. 

But the cool calm that was washing over him drowned it out, the whispering voices of the blades joined the cacophony in his mind. 

_ You’re a murderer.  _

_ You should tell them.  _

_ You need to escape.  _

_ I want to stay.  _

_ You will never be good enough for Hiyori, or for Yukine. _

The orchestra of conflict sung its dissonance, drowning out his good reason. He reached out slowly, almost in a trance, and took the swords, slipping them into his belt. There  _ was _ a good private place where he could blow off some steam.

* * *

Steel whispered through the air, calming Yato’s nerves. Every slice soothed a bit more the frustration that had been bubbling under his skin. He’d felt like a volcano on the verge of eruption, the built-up fire of despair threatening to destroy him. But the song of his swords was easing that tension now. It had been far too long since he had heard it, too long since he’d held a sword. Unsheathing them in the cover of the bamboo thicket had felt like coming home, and for the first time since being captured, he felt  _ alive. _

His soul was  _ free  _ from the cage he’d shoved it into when he’d fallen into the idiot  amateur cover and he realized now how smothering it had been. He hadn’t realized he was being suffocated until he’d slashed the air and realized he may as well have never put his swords down. He’d been afraid he’d gotten rusty. 

His mind wandered, crackling with the energy of exertion until he remembered that he was supposed to be guarding his thoughts. He clamped down on his aura and grinned, he would kill two birds with one stone: warm-up and work on his damned mental defenses. Yato forced himself to go through the warm-up exercises, it had been so long since he’d moved in this way after all. It felt good, he felt more himself than he had in ages, more even than he had before he’d run away from home. 

His desperate bids for freedom had always started with a deep feeling of disillusionment with himself. 

As his mind strayed phantoms of his frustration appeared before him to be cut down. First, there was Kazuma and his perception, guilting Yato into saying things he shouldn’t. The second was Hiyori and her soft smile that tricked Yato into believing he had a place here. Next, Tenjin with his heart-stopping double-edged entendres and refusal to let him leave. Yato struck the old man down, a growl tearing from his throat. 

Where Tenjin had been the phantom of the person that Yato hated and feared the most appeared, blurry around the edges but with solid blue eyes that burned like ice: a manslayer with a lust for blood and a soul made of malice. Yato’s sword froze in the air, inches from the neck of his own ferocious image. He stared, horrified, at the face of the man he used to be, twisted with depravity. It took him several moments of gaping to remaster himself and slash through the phantom. 

It dissipated, then reappeared. 

Yato slashed again and again at the version of himself that loved killing, the desperation to be rid of the vision growing with each strike. He was frantic to rend this part of himself free and leave it behind. Even now a tiny part of himself called for him to become that man again. It was easier to be him, he didn’t have to carry the guilt of what he’d done because he’d known no remorse. That Yato didn’t hate himself or his life, but Yato as he was now hated him. Yato hated him almost as much as he hated himself for becoming that man whenever it got too tough. 

Every slash that failed to destroy his phantom self reminded him that his past was inescapable. He could never go back and  _ not  _ be that man. Yato attacked and attacked until finally he dispelled the villainous phantom with a desperate cry of rage. Another phantom formed in front of his face, but it was different this time. 

Yato dispelled this illusion too, but they began to multiply, becoming vengeful and swarming to attack him. He fought back, slashing, and ducking and spinning, fighting off the faceless phantoms threatening to overwhelm him. As he continued killing disgust and delight warred within him as he fought to remain himself while the monster fought to take over. Slashing through the formless body of another phantom, he stepped forward into a field that ran red with blood. All around him were corpses, broken and shredded and torn, but all with their faces turned away from him. 

He couldn’t remember what they looked like, or even how many there were, but he knew he’d killed them. 

He’d seen them in his dreams. 

Bamboo rustled. Yato spun around, slashing thick bamboo stalks into sharpened projectiles and used his sword to flick them in the direction of his assailant, using the same movement to knock the knife that had been thrown at him out of the air. The field vanished as Kazuma, looking smug, stepped out of the bamboo and Yato remembered where he was. 

The bottom dropped out of Yato’s stomach, blood lust dissipating. Yato stumbled back, swords slipping out of his fear numbed fingertips as Kazuma stepped forward. 

_ This is the day you die _ , a cold voice said to him. 

“Whoops,” Kazuma began, “you can’t hide anymore, Yato. You’re going to tell me who you are  _ now _ .” 

_ You can’t hide forever. _

“I don’t- I don’t know what you mean,” Yato floundered, stumbling over a tree root. 

His back slammed into the tree and an instant later two throwing knives pinned his sleeves to the wood, trapping him. Yato’s eyes widened at his approaching doom as he struggled to get free. Kazuma threw two more knives, pinning his arms down at the elbows. 

“Just so you don’t run off again,” Kazuma said. “You’re not who you claim to be. I saw you practicing and you’re  _ clearly  _ a master.  _ Also _ , I could feel your aura because you’re  _ still _ not keeping your walls up like I  _ asked  _ you too. So, tell me, who are you? Why are you hiding?”

“What makes you think I’ll tell you now?”  _ TELL HIM NOW! _

Kazuma sighed heavily, then drew one of his khanjar and pressed it against Yato’s throat, face darkening. “We’ll do this the hard way, then. You don’t have a choice.” Kazuma recoiled slightly when Yato sagged with apparent relief, closing his eyes, and exhaling slowly. 

Yato opened his mouth to speak, but his fear resurfaced and smothered the words, so he produced nothing but a choked sound of dismay. He started trembling and closed his mouth again, apparently wrestling with his confession. Clearly he was no longer trying to conceal his feelings, mentally or otherwise, and Kazuma watched as the emotions raced across Yato’s face. He cycled through relief and fear, then settled on something that was still and cold that caused some amount of disquiet in Kazuma, but he couldn’t place. 

“What is it?” He asked quietly. 

“I…” Yato croaked, “I’m the Sorcerer’s son.” 

Yato was worried for a second that Kazuma wouldn’t believe him, but after a long moment of complete silence and stillness, Kazuma’s jaw fell open. 

“Weren’t expecting that, were you?” Kazuma’s ridiculous expression had given Yato the strength to summon up just a bit of his bravado. 

Kazuma recovered quickly, slamming Yato so hard into the tree trunk that Yato saw stars and his feet lost their purchase. He scrambled for traction as Kazuma pressed the knife so tightly against Yato’s throat he could barely breathe. 

“Relax, I’m not with him,” he began carefully, mindful of the knife at his throat. “I… ran away from home.” Kazuma glared a moment longer, then relaxed slightly. Yato never thought he would be grateful for Kazuma’s annoying perception. He took a deep breath as the khanjar was pulled away enough for him to breathe easily. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Being held captive, hadn’t you noticed?” Kazuma leveled an unamused look at him. “Alright, fine. I was hiding from my old man in the Valley of Peace. They always say that Tenjin was the only person who could ever give my dad a run for his money and that Dad would never attack him directly. I’d hoped I’d be safe here, that he’d never think I’d actually be brave enough to come here. Then that old geezer named me Dragon Warrior and may as well have sent up a flare. ‘Hey Sorcerer, I got your kid!’ Typical.” 

Yato could practically see the gears turning in Kazuma’s mind as he connected hundreds of different dots, constructing a narrative in his mind. 

“If you’re the Sorcerer’s son, how come I’ve never heard of you?” 

“You have, I’m one of the Gods of Calamity.” Yato watched the understanding come into his eyes. 

“Yaboku,” he spat, “The Hollow. You’re the worst of them all.” 

“Guilty as charged. Here I was worried you’d think I was Kugaha. Nice to properly meet you, Master Mantis.” 

“I always thought that if I caught one of you, I’d kill you on the spot.” 

“What’s stopping you?”

“Lots of things. You ran away for a reason, what was it?”

“Personal.”

“Nope.”

“I wanted a puppy, but my daddy said no.” 

“Try again.” 

“Fine. He’s a master of chi. He can use it to do things you’ve never even dreamed of, things a good guy like you would never  _ dare  _ dream of,” Yato gritted out, eyes filling with a desperation that Kazuma recognized at once. He suddenly knew that Yato was going to say next. “You know how he controls those brainless soldiers, the Phantoms, he calls them?”

“Yes.”

“They’re not the only ones he can control.” 

Kazuma’s breath whooshed out of him all at once with the realization. “You.” Yato gulped. Kazuma shook himself. “Are you claiming you’re not responsible for the murders you’ve committed?” 

“No, I’m responsible for most of them.” 

“Most?” 

Yato pressed his lips together in annoyance, cursing Kazuma’s persistent shrewdness. He gritted his teeth and looked away. Kazuma pressed him harder against the tree, knife against his throat again to remind him he didn’t have a choice. Yato’s legs started to tremble as the memory surfaced. 

“He forced me to kill someone that I care about,” he said, voice cracking. He cast his eyes to the ground, struggling to breathe.  _ If he did it once he’ll do it again _ . 

Yato’s knees gave way with the confession, leaving Kazuma holding all his weight. So, when Kazuma took him by surprise and released him Yato dropped to the ground, arms now pinned above his head. 

“Who?” The sympathy in Kazuma’s voice surprised Yato yet again, drawing his eyes back to Kazuma’s face, where he found no malice. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Yato said weakly. Kazuma didn’t press the issue, instead, he ripped the knives out of the tree, releasing Yato, and crouched down so they were eye to eye once more. 

“Well, this certainly explains a lot, like why you freaked out so badly when I told you I could use spells, and why you’ve been so desperate to escape. You’re terrified he’s going to send the other Gods of Calamity to get you, aren’t you?” 

“My sister and my boyfriend.” 

“What?”

“He’ll send my sister, Nora, and my boyfriend, Rabo.” 

“Wait,  _ what _ ? Your on again off again boyfriend, the one you told us kissed you under the blood moon,  _ that’s  _ Rabo?” Yato nodded. Kazuma looked horrified. “He’s a  _ psychopath _ !”

“He is  _ not _ !” Yato defended. “He just really likes killing people!”

“That’s a psychopath, Yato! He’s completely  _ unhinged _ !”

“He’s at least partially hinged! Besides, how would you know what he’s like?” 

“I’ve faced him before and barely made it out alive!  _ That _ is your boyfriend?” 

“I never knew you met him,” Yato said thoughtfully. 

“I’ve never seen someone covered in so much blood look like he was having so much fun.” 

Yato chuckled and smiled fondly. “Yeah, that sounds like him.” Kazuma gave him an incredulous look. “You know that must have happened during one of my escapes, we rarely go out without each other if I’m home.” 

“How sweet and domestic,” Kazuma said. 

“Hey! You have your crazy partner and I have mine!”

“Viina isn’t a cold-blooded killer!”

“Beg to differ,” Yato grumbled. Kazuma pretended he hadn’t heard that. 

“I suppose this makes your appointment as the Dragon Warrior make more sense.” 

“In what way?” 

“Who better to defeat the Sorcerer than his own flesh and blood?” 

“Actually, my sister and I are adopted.” Kazuma waved the information away and sat down, legs crossed, looking pensive. 

“Still, who would know his weaknesses better than you?”

“We’re not exactly a close-knit family. I don’t know anything about him or his weaknesses. If you ask me, he doesn’t have any.” 

“But you know him better than any of us,” Kazuma persisted. 

“I know better than any of you that he  _ can’t be beaten _ . I’m no match for him, I don’t know if anyone is.” 

“We still have to try.” 

“I’d rather you just kill me now and get it over with if you don’t mind. I’m sure you’ll be much quicker about it.” 

“I’m not going to kill you,” Kazuma replied absently, still thinking hard. 

“What are you going to do then?” 

“I’m going to make you tell the others for one. You’re going to stop wasting our time and start training for real, you’ve been driving poor Yukine insane.” Yato snickered. He wasn’t particularly sorry about that. 

“Can I ask you something?” Kazuma asked, looking back up at Yato. 

“No.” 

“Why did you drop your swords? Why didn’t you fight me?” Yato sighed and leaned his head back against the tree trunk, exasperated by Kazuma’s ability to ask the hard questions.

“You know why,” he said eventually, “I was tired of lying and pretending to be something I wasn’t. I was dying. I wasn’t expecting to  _ like  _ any of you but you’re all- well most of you anyway- are so nice and I’m just… a killer. It’s all I’ll ever be.” 

The hollow voice Yato spoke those words with told Kazuma they weren’t really his. That was something he’d no doubt heard so often he’d started to believe it. At least now Kazuma was fairly certain he knew who said them. 

“You left that life because you hated it, didn’t you?” Yato nodded. “Then that means you want to change. You’re not like your psycho boyfriend who couldn’t stop even  _ if  _ he wanted to.”

“Not a psycho,” Yato said tiredly. Kazuma ignored him. 

“You’ve been good to Yukine, almost like a father figure-” Yato scoffed. “I’m serious, he looks up to you.” 

“Not for much longer.” 

“He’ll be upset, sure, but I don’t think he’ll hate you. You’re here, after all.” 

“He deserves better. Hiyori too. You all deserve a better hero than me.” 

“But you’re all we’ve got.” 

Yato started slightly, then shook his head, pulling his legs to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, resting his chin on his knees. 

“You’re doomed then.” There was a long silence followed by Kazuma announcing that he was going to leave Yato alone for a while to get his thoughts in order. 

Yato watched dully as Kazuma left the clearing with a comforting pat to Yato’s head. He scooped Yato’s discarded swords off the grass as he left. 

So. He’d told Kazuma the truth and the sky hadn’t fallen. He wasn’t being led to the dungeons or dragged to the gallows. In fact, all he had was a slight headache and two torn sleeves. None of the terrible things he’d imagined had come to pass, except now he was actually on the hook for killing his dad. And Kazuma had been really judgey about his boyfriend. If it hadn’t been for the former Yato may have even called the confrontation anti-climactic. 

Anxiety panged in his mind. He  _ couldn’t _ fight his father. Kazuma didn’t understand. Yato couldn’t even  _ face _ his father. If he did, he’d surely be made to kill the friends he’d made here as punishment for straying. His imagination conjured an image of himself waking up from the darkness to find Hiyori and Yukine crumpled at his feet, covered in their own blood. Retching, Yato clambered to his feet. 

His father was coming. That fate was coming for him, for all of them. He was sure now that he’d kill everyone he loved if his father got to him, then he’d be taken back to that dark and depressing compound where the air burned like acid and every word was a trap for him to trip. Who knew when the reins of his mind would be returned to him? Maybe they would never be, maybe the rest of his life would be blissful indifference as his body did things he was unaware of. 

He had to stop that from happening. 

He got to his feet and left the thicket, walking steadily despite the fear that choked him. 

Kazuma was standing on the little bridge over the creek, watching the water go by when Yato exited the bamboo thicket. He opened his mouth to speak but realized that Yato hadn’t seen him. Curiously, he watched as Yato approached the willow tree and reached for a branch. 

“So, you’re running then?” Kazuma asked. Yato practically jumped out of his skin.

“I’m trying too,” he replied, not looking back. 

“After we welcomed you into our family?” 

“My family are killers.” 

“What about Yukine?” Even from this distance, he could see Yato stiffen. “You promised to protect him.” 

“He’ll be safer if I leave.” 

“How do you think he’ll feel when he discovers that the only person in the world he truly trusts has abandoned him?” Kazuma waited for a long time for Yato to reply, but he didn’t. “I won’t try to stop you. Yukine deserves better than someone who will abandon him because he’s afraid of what happens if he stays. If you’re going to go, then go, but remember: you’re all he’s got.” 

Kazuma strode away without another word, leaving Yato warring with himself, one hand still clutching the tree branch. 

_ You’re all he’s got. _

_ He’s got the six. _

_ But they don’t understand him like you do.  _

Yato felt his father’s approach keenly like he was bearing down right now, casting a shadow over the light he’d found here. The idea of leaving Yukine hurt more than he could stand, however, he felt just as sick just imagining what might happen to Yukine if he were to stay. 

_ What will happen to Yukine if he comes face to face with Rabo and Nora? What will happen to Hiyori? _

He saw Yukine and his innocent smile, and Hiyori with her eyes glowing with warmth. He blinked and saw them as he had before, felled by his own hand, laying in pieces and wearing betrayed expressions on what was left of their faces. Yato leaned over and retched again, expelling nothing from his already empty stomach; he tightened his grip on the tree branch. 

_ They’re better off without you. _

It was easy for Kazuma to say that he was a coward for leaving, he had no idea what he was asking of Yato. He had no idea what would happen to him, what  _ Yato would do to him _ if his father said so. 

_ Of course, they don’t know. You never told them, and if you leave now they’ll never know, and they’ll never understand why. All Yukine will know is that you promised to protect him and then you left. They won’t know you’re trying to keep them safe by leaving.  _

_ But will it matter if you leave?  _ A quiet voice hissed.  _ Might your father not kill them even if you’re gone, to spite you? To prove a point: nothing but pain follows in your wake, so your only place  _ must  _ be at his side. Isn’t it better then, that you stay and fight? Help them prepare for what is coming.  _

Yato remembered Yukine’s attempts at patience despite Yato’s repeated and frankly ridiculous blunders and how he always did his best to be encouraging. Yukine was  _ good _ . He deserved someone good. 

_ But you’re all he’s got. _

A dry sob shook his chest. He  _ couldn’t  _ leave. 

But he  _ had  _ too. Father was coming. 

Fear was pressing in on him from every side again, choking out his oxygen. Images of what would happen to his friends if Father got his hands on Yato again assaulted his mind: Kazuma’s eyes glassy and dull, his chest cleaved in half; Hiyori tossed to the ground like garbage, her neck a second bloody smile, Yukine torn in two. They were masters, all of them, but what defense could they have against trust?

He tried to take a deep breath, but the cloud of despair was restricting his lungs too much. Yato sank slowly to the ground, trying to maintain hold of reality. 

But the reality was that he might kill everyone he loved.

* * *

“So, is anyone going to check on him?” Yukine asked, eyes twitching towards the beacon of fear in the gardens that was Yato. 

“Nope. Leave him alone,” Kazuma said shortly, placing their plates in front of them. 

“What did you do to him?” Hiyori asked accusingly. 

“Nothing!” 

“Kazuma, I think you might be a bully,” Yukine ventured, looking wary. “This is the second time you’ve done this to him.”

“I am  _ not  _ a bully.” 

“Would Yato have the same opinion?” Hiyori asked carefully. 

“ _ Yes _ , because I’m not bullying him. Just leave him alone for now, Yato has a lot to think about on his own.”

* * *

A few hours later Yato had recovered enough from his panic attack to seek out Kazuma in the training hall. The knowledge that his very presence here put everyone he cared about in incredible danger weighed heavily on him. At least the voices screaming for his confession had finally been silenced. 

_ This is it, Yato, you’re not just a prisoner anymore. You had the option to leave and you decided to stay. Being here is your choice.  _

He found Kazuma trying to get tree sap off the knives he’d used to pin Yato to the tree. Yato knocked gently even though he was certain Kazuma had felt him coming the second Yato had decided this was where he was going. 

“You decided to stay.”

“Thanks for stopping me but… I’m still not sure I made the right choice.”  _ I’m not sure I even know what the right choice is. _

“Why is that?”

“Me being here means you’re all in danger. My father might kill you just to hurt me, in fact, that’s kinda his thing.” Kazuma turned around, mouth open to speak, but halted when his eyes landed on Yato. 

“You look terrible.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that.” 

“Sorry, but how much did you cry exactly? You look like you’ve gone another round with Viina.” Yato straightened his clothes and ran a hand through his hair self-consciously. Surely, he didn’t look  _ that  _ bad.

“Don’t be an asshole, I’ve had a rough couple of days.” 

“At least now I know what’s troubling you so I can help.” 

Yato laughed bitterly. “No one can help me, isn’t that the point? The one and only who can kill dear old Dad?” There was a short awkward silence where Kazuma wasn’t sure what to say. “So, what’s up with the swords? It seems a little weird to me that Tenjin just so happened to buy my favorites right after I got here even though no one at this dojo uses them.” 

“I don’t know, he just said we’d be needing them soon.” 

A thrill of panic ran up his spine before Yato reminded himself his secret was out anyway. “That’s… that rotten old geezer.”

“What?”

“I keep getting this feeling that Tenjin knows who I am?”

“What? How would he know?” 

“About five years ago we were in the same place. I was wearing my mask, but you know the top halves of our faces are visible. There was chaos in there, people were running and screaming, Kugaha had thrown some smoke bombs and Tenjin didn’t, you know, kill me on sight at the festival, so I wasn’t sure.”

“Five years ago?”

“A massacre? Banquet hall I think?” Yato supplied uncomfortably. 

“Oh, yeah, I remember that now. He was very disturbed for weeks afterward.” 

Yato shifted uncomfortably. “But, um, the swordsmith who made those swords, I recognized her mark, she’s our favorite,” he said, changing the subject. 

“Really? Does she know who you are?”

Yato shook his head. “I think Dad told her we’re ronin.”

“A surprisingly good cover. For the record, the bumbling idiot who knows nothing about kung fu was  _ not _ .” 

Yato laughed, the sound easing the tension. “I was taken by surprise! I didn’t have a story and then one literally  _ fell on top of me _ . I didn’t have much of a choice.” Yato leaned against a pillar and smiled softly at the floor. “It was kinda nice going over the basics again with nice teachers.” 

“You drove Yukine crazy.”

“That was half the fun,” Yato said, smirking. Kazuma laughed again, then sighed, turning suddenly serious. Yato already knew what he would say. 

“We should tell everyone sooner rather than later. If not tonight, then tomorrow. The longer we wait the worse it will be.” Yato gulped, tugging twice on his earlobe. 

“Tonight. Right now, even, before I lose my nerve.” 

“Alright then. Let’s go find Tenjin and see what he already knew about you. He’s probably in his private garden right now.” 

Yato took a deep breath and followed. 

“You’ll be alright, Yato, it’s not like you’re as helpless as you’ve been pretending, right?”

“Right,” Yato said. “And I want to know this guy’s game.”

* * *

They knocked on Tenjin’s door, and upon receiving no response they entered and passed through his rooms into his gardens. Kazuma kept reassuringly close to keep Yato calm, one eye focused on Yato tugging his earlobe nervously. He halted at the edge of the garden where Tenjin was sitting, then cleared his throat. Tenjin turned to face them, looking serene. 

“What is it, boys?”

“Yato has something he’d like to share with you, and I think it’s best if everyone hears it.” 

“Would it happen to be the reason why he’s lying about not knowing how to fight?” 

Yato’s entire body stiffened and Kazuma exchanged a look, Yato tugging harder on his ear. 

“Yes, it would,” Kazuma said, reaching up to smack Yato’s hand away from his ear. “You’re going to rip it off if you don’t stop,” he cautioned. Yato frowned but folded his hands together. 

“Alright, Kazuma, go get the others. Yato, why don’t you sit down and have some tea and cookies with me?” 

“What?” 

“Sit. Tea. Cookies. I can hear your stomach growling from over here. Also, you look like you’ve been dragged behind a horse.” 

_ Why is everyone so mean today _ ?

“I don’t think you want to have tea with me,” Yato said, still watching Tenjin suspiciously. Tenjin smiled and indicated the spot across from him. 

“Let me be the judge of that.” 

Yato sat with much trepidation, though he thanked Tenjin when he poured Yato a cup of tea. He had  _ manners _ after all. He’d never been much of a tea drinker, but it seemed rude to refuse. 

When Hiyori entered the courtyard, she saw Yato pouring Tenjin a cup of tea, looking about as confused as she felt. There were crumbs all over his face and he looked like he’d gotten dragged out of a river and hung out to dry before coming here.  _ What did Kazuma do to him? _

“You certainly have good manners, son,” Tenjin commented. 

“Um, thanks?”

“Why don’t you tell us what you wanted to tell us?” Yato took a large gulp of tea, which Hiyori suspected was a stall tactic.

“I’m a God of Calamity,” he blurted as soon as he swallowed the tea. Too soon, it seemed, because he dissolved into a coughing mess. 

_ What? _

Shocked silence rang through the courtyard at his words, broken only by Yato’s spluttering. He shrank into himself, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. Tenjin was calm and composed as always. Meanwhile, Hiyori felt like Yato had opened up her head and poured molasses inside.  _ A God of Calamity? How? _ She’d known he had fighting skills, and he’d hinted at some dark past, but this? Yato squirmed uncomfortably and was apparently incapable of standing longer than a moment’s silence. 

“My name is Yaboku and The Sorcerer is my dad. I was hiding from him in the Valley of Peace when you guys took me hostage and now, he probably knows I’m here and he’s gonna send Rabo and Nora to get me.” 

_ Makes sense,  _ was Hiyori’s first coherent thought. The legends  _ had  _ always said that Tenjin was the only person the Sorcerer wouldn’t attack directly. If one wanted to hide from the Sorcerer, the closer to Tenjin the better. 

“What?” Yukine asked eventually. Yato flinched. He glanced quickly from Yukine to Hiyori, then back to his empty teacup. 

“Yato, could you refill my tea?”

“Huh?” Tenjin shook his teacup pointedly, eyebrows raised, and Yato shook himself a bit. “Oh, right, sure.” Hiyori watched the most infamous of the Gods of Calamity carefully pour tea for his father’s worst enemy, still wearing crumbs around his mouth, and suppressed a delirious giggle. 

It made sense, really. 

“This isn’t funny, idiot,” Bishamon growled. 

“He’s not kidding,” Kazuma put in, and Hiyori looked at him. “He’s telling the truth.” 

“And why don’t you seem surprised?” 

“He told me this afternoon.” 

“ _ What the hell _ ?” Yukine shouted suddenly. All eyes turned to him. He didn’t understand, Yato had been so nice, so  _ dumb _ , and so  _ bad  _ at hiding his skills. How could anyone like that be a God of Calamity? “You mean to tell me this whole time you’ve been a murderer?” Yato didn’t flinch this time, just looked immeasurably sad. That pissed Yukine off. 

If he was going to be a murderer, he should at least act tough about it. 

“I knew you had a scary past, but I never imagined this,” Kofuku said. 

“A God of Calamity,” Daikoku said softly. Yato glanced over at Kazuma for reassurance and Kazuma nodded. Yukine gritted his teeth angrily. 

A whip cracked and Yato flinched like he’d been struck. The sight spurred Yukine into action before even he realized what he was doing. He threw himself between Yato and Bishamon, Not remembering the scars that had covered Yato’s body until the metal tip of the knife slashed across his chest. Yukine knew what that bone-deep fear was like. 

Another instant and the sound of ceramic shattering filled the air and Yato was in front of him, closely followed by Hiyori, both of them yammering in his ears, asking if he was alright. When Yukine met Yato’s worried blue eyes he realized the man was about to cry. He looked like he’d already  _ been  _ crying. A lot. 

Yato turned to glare at Bishamon and Yukine got his first look at what Kazuma and Kofuku had described seeing in their first encounter. Ill-intent. Yato took a step towards Bishamon, lips curled into a snarl like he meant to attack her, but Yukine grabbed his wrist to stop him. Yato turned back to him, malice dissipating like a phantom in the wind. 

“I know you’ve all received a shock just now, but let’s think about this rationally,” Tenjin said, gaze mixed with curiosity and concern on Yukine. “Yato being a God of Calamity means that he will be of more use to us than we originally thought he would.” 

“I’d rather die than trust the Sorcerer’s own flesh and blood!” Bishamon shouted. Yato and Kazuma replied at the same time.

“I’m adopted.”

“He’s adopted.” 

“Like that  _ matters _ .”

“Stand down Tigress, that’s an order,” Tenjin said firmly. 

Yukine was still staring at Yato, who was starting to get uncomfortable under his gaze. He was squirming now, biting his bottom lip, and looking like he was trying hard to keep from blurting something stupid. 

“Um, Master, may I ask why you don’t seem all that surprised?” Kazuma asked, giving Yato a meaningful look.

“From the moment he fell into the ring I knew who he was.” 

“I  _ knew  _ you remembered me, old man!” Yato cried, drowning out the shock from the Six. 

His mind traveled back to that room full of smoke and screaming, where, from across the chaos, Yato had met eyes with Tenjin and watched his face change with something Yato hadn’t been able to place. 

“Yes, I do remember. More than you, I think.” 

“What do you mean?” Yato asked, for one strange moment thinking that Tenjin somehow knew about the large gaps in his memory- time stolen by his father. 

“Many years ago, before any of the Six came to live here there was another child, a boy, whom I failed to save.” 

“Failed?” Yukine repeated. 

“It was during my travels that I came across a boy in an extremely poor and small village that no longer exists. While walking the streets with the headman I saw a very small boy with blue eyes beat up a child much bigger than him in defense of another child.”

Yato started feeling ill and shook his head slightly, but this went totally unnoticed. 

“He had the light of the moon in his eyes and the flame of a fighter in his soul. When I asked the headman about him, I was told the child was an orphan and he had no home. I decided then that I would bring him with me to the Jade Palace and teach him to fight on behalf of others.” 

“Stop,” Yato said hollowly, “I don’t want to hear this.” 

“What happened next?” Yukine urged, ignoring Yato. 

“The Sorcerer attacked. This was when his reign of terror was just beginning, and I had yet to see him in person. During the battle I found myself surrounded by his forces, pinned down and protecting villagers who had no ability to fight. From the corner of my eye, however, I saw the little boy from before running straight for the Sorcerer’s horse with the sword of a fallen soldier. 

Yato’s head was spinning. He exhaled a shaking breath and Hiyori cast him a concerned look. 

“I don’t want to hear the end of this story.” 

“The Sorcerer knocked the sword from his hand easily and picked him up, examined him briefly, then tucked the boy under his arm and rode away, withdrawing his forces.” 

Finally, Yato understood what he’d seen in Tenjin’s face that night at the massacre. Recognition. Regret. 

“I thought I’d never see him again, but I was wrong. Nine years later I saw him across a smokey chaos-filled room. He was quite near a man, then, and he was covered in a lot of innocent blood. His eyes were lit with bloodlust and malice, now, and I feared his soul was beyond saving.” Yato made an indescribable sound of grief and leaned over, breathing ragged. Hiyori and Yukine took hold of him at the same time and kept him standing. 

He knew exactly the look Tenjin was referring too. It haunted his nightmares. 

“I knew he was the boy I’d failed to save, but he was gone from the banquet hall before I could get to him. You can imagine my surprise when the same boy fell from the crowd at our festival, covered in blood again, but this time mercifully it was his own. I was glad to see him, glad for a third chance to save him after failing him twice.”

“I don’t understand,” Yato managed, “you’re saying… my life could have been totally different?” Hiyori’s heart ached at the despair in his voice, but she said nothing. What could she even say at a time like this anyway?

“It could have, I’m so sorry.” Yato’s knees gave out entirely as he was overcome with emotion. Hiyori and Yukine guided him gently to the ground. “I couldn’t help you then, please accept my help now.” 

“No one can help me,” Yato gasped reflexively. 

Kazuma rolled his eyes. “Would you say that to  _ Rabo _ ?” 

“Unlike  _ you guys, _ he doesn’t say stupid shit because he  _ knows _ there’s no escaping my dad.” 

“Oh my God, you’re friends with the other Gods of Calamity,” Yukine said like he was still processing. “I just keep having realizations.” 

“Why did you ask about Rabo, specifically, Kazu?” 

“Because he’s Yato’s boyfriend,” Kazuma said, pulling a face.

“Lay off Rabo!” Yato snapped, voice still tight. “You only hate him because he beat you up once!”

“I  _ hate him _ because he’s a  _ mass murderer _ !”

“Yeah, well, so am I! Rabo kept me  _ alive _ .” 

“So that’s just one more sin to hold against him,” Bishamon said. Yato ignored her. 

“You guys just don’t know him.”

“Yato’s taste in men aside, we need to decide what happens next,” Daikoku put in. 

“What do you mean?” Hiyori asked. 

“Well, what are we going to do with Yato?”

“Do?”

“We’re going to train of course,” Tenjin said, “nothing has changed except Yato will stop pretending to be an idiot.”

“Oh, he’s  _ not pretending _ ,” Yukine said on impulse. “I’m pretty sure about that.” Yato turned indignant eyes to Yukine, who saw the fresh tear tracks down Yato’s face and remembered that he’d just had his entire reality altered and that he should maybe go easy on the guy. 

“He’ll stop pretending he can’t fight then.” 

“That is  _ it _ ,” Bishamon snapped. “He’s a killer! We should execute him!”

“And lose our only chance of defeating the Sorcerer?” 

Yato watched the conversation awkwardly, thinking that his input was probably not wanted. While the others argued, Hiyori knelt next to Yato and touched his neck gently. 

“You’re hurt, what happened?” She asked quietly. Her words caught Yukine’s attention and he sat up to peer at Yato. Yato saw the blood from the attack he’d intercepted for him and tried to reach for it but Yukine slapped his hand away. 

“What happened?” He pressed. 

“Kazuma caught me practicing and held me at knifepoint.” 

“Oh dear,” she said, tilting his chin up gently to look at his neck. “Did he hurt you anywhere else?”

“Now that you mention it, he hit my head pretty hard on the tree.” Hiyori shook her head and reached around to feel the back of his head. 

“Well, you’ve got a nasty bump, but I don’t think you’re concussed. I wish he would have been gentler with you.”

“To be fair I  _ had  _ just told him that I’m a God of Calamity, not exactly the kind of person you have to handle with care.

“Someone needs to,” she muttered, checking her pockets and pulling out a scrap of bandage. Yato softened at her words as she used a corner of it to wipe away the dried blood before wrapping it once around his neck and tying it off. “It’s not terribly long, I’ll have to redo it later.” Yato caught her fingers in his as she was retreating and pressed them to his lips. She smiled.

“So, I have to ask, what were you practicing?” 

“Dramatic monologues.”

“Hmm, give me a second, Yaboku the God of Calamity fights with… a katana and wakizashi.”

“Right on the nose, but I prefer Yato.” 

“Right. That explains why Tenjin bought those swords after you arrived, they were for you.” 

“Yeah, and he nearly gave me a heart attack. It wasn’t exactly subtle.” 

“Swords that have never taken life to accompany you on your new one.” 

Yato smiled. “I like that. It can’t change what I’ve done, though.” 

“Maybe it will inspire you in what you continue to do.” 

“How many optimistic turns of phrase do you have?” 

“I’ll never reveal my secrets.” Yato snorted and the sound drew the attention of the others, whose eyes landed on their still interlocked hands. 

“You two are  _ not  _ flirting right now,” Bishamon protested. 

“Excuse you, I’m always flirting,” Yato said. 

“Can’t you at least take this seriously, Yato?” Kazuma asked, exasperated. 

“I’m not the one who beat me up! Hiyori was just making sure you didn’t give me a concussion!”

“...did I?”

“No, he’s fine,” Hiyori said, climbing to her feet. Yato stayed on the ground, his legs were still weak, and he wasn’t sure he felt like having to be held up in front of everyone right now. 

“What’s to stop him from escaping? We should at least put guards in his room again,” Bishamon pushed. Apparently, she had backed off her ‘kill the traitor’ stance while Yato hadn’t been paying attention. 

“For what? If he were going to leave, he would have done it earlier today when I gave him an out. He’s here to stay.” All eyes turned to him again. 

“Is that true, Yato?” He nodded mutely. 

“So what? He’s a God of Calamity now and nothing changes?”

“Technically, I was always a God of Calamity,” he said without thinking. 

“I think we need to give Yatty a chance and keeping him under constant guard isn’t much of a chance.” 

“It’s not like he’s a threat to us,” Yukine said. 

Yato’s stomach growled loudly and he felt his face flush. 

“I haven’t eaten today.” Tenjin chuckled.

* * *

Later Hiyori found Yato scarfing down a quick meal he’d made, hardly stopping to taste it. 

“Careful or you’ll choke.” 

“Haven’t eaten all day,” he said between bites. 

“That will all come back up if you don’t go slower.” 

He gave her a level look before swallowing and continuing to eat slower. Hiyori sat down next to him and he watched her carefully, trying to predict her next move. She could shout, punch, cry, and for one wild second Yato even imagined her pulling him in for a kiss. 

“So how are you feeling?” She asked. 

He blinked. That hadn’t been on his list. 

“How am…  _ I _ ?” 

“Yes, how are you?” 

He took a second to mull it over. “I’m… relieved you all know, I feel guilty for having lied and-” he paused, taking a drink, and pushing his food around on his plate. 

“And?” She prodded. 

“And I’m angry, I think. I’m angry that my life could have been so much different if only that  _ one  _ thing hadn’t happened. I’m angry that it happened and I’m angry that my father stole my memories of it.” 

“He took… you don’t remember the village?” 

“I don’t remember anything before my father, at all. He always told me I hit my head, but I’m sure now that he used magic to take it from me so I wouldn’t know I’d almost had a normal life. And that isn’t the only thing he took from me, I’m missing time all over the place.” 

“Maybe Kazuma could-”

“No. Dad is way more powerful than him. Any memory spell put in place by my father couldn’t be broken by Kazuma. Besides, I don’t think it matters. It’s not like knowing will change anything but-”

“But you can’t stop imagining what might have been.” He nodded. 

“Now can I ask how  _ you _ are feeling?” 

“Well, I’m not surprised you know how to fight, because you were horrible at pretending that you didn’t.”

“No way! I tried so hard!”

“You still sucked. But- I can’t say I’m not shocked you’re a God of Calamity when you’re so- so-  _ silly _ .” 

“I’m...sorry?”

“It’s just that Gods of Calamity have this huge aura of fear around them like they walk everywhere cloaked in a mist of blood or something, but you’re so  _ weird  _ and  _ goofy _ . There’s this  _ massive  _ disconnect from what I expected a God of Calamity to be like and who you actually are.” 

“I’m not  _ that _ weird!”

“And you’re a really good cook, and Kazuma says you know how to knit? And who in the world would expect a God of Calamity to  _ cry  _ so much?”

“I cry a reasonable amount for someone in my situation!”

Hiyori giggled. “And I never expected a God of Calamity to make me laugh, but I guess that’s the problem. Maybe all of us were thinking about you guys like monsters and not like human beings with stories and personalities.”

“I’m not so sure the first isn’t true.”

“If it ever was, it isn’t anymore.” He looked back at his food, the corners of his eyes crinkling. 

“I’m glad you think so.” He ate the last few bites of his food and turned to Hiyori, who pulled out a bandage and some other medical supplies. 

“Let’s have a look at that cut.” He started to shake his head. “No protesting.”

She leaned in close and wiped away the dried blood she’d missed earlier, then parted the neck of his robe to clean the drips on his chest. 

Yato took in only shallow breaths, her scent enveloping him like a warm blanket. Her soft eyes focused on her work as she examined his cut carefully. Really it was just a scratch and she shouldn’t have bothered. 

“Are you sure you’re okay treating a monster like me?”

“I don’t care about your past, Yato.”

She wrapped the bandages around his neck and tied them off before sliding her hand into his hair to check on his head again. Yato stopped breathing, closing his eyes despite himself. 

When he opened his eyes again she was smiling at him, and he realized she was running her fingers through his hair just to elicit a reaction.  _ Two can play at that game.  _

Yato reached out and cupped Hiyori’s cheek, tracing the curve of her ear with his fingertips. She leaned into his touch, still smiling at him. Taking this as a good sign, Yato leaned forward and pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her as he kissed her, for real this time, without chickening out. 


	9. 8- My Demons

Yato’s eyes flicked between the two masters circling him with slow and deliberate steps, his face set in annoyance. They had to have somehow heard that he hated circling, right? They had to be doing this just to piss him off. 

They were on either side of him, moving in perfect sync. He couldn’t attack one without exposing his back to the other. The rest of the Six reclined in the shade ten feet away, waiting for something interesting to happen. Yato would have to make a move eventually, if not with the intent of winning the spar then for the sake of his own sanity. 

He lunged for Kofuku, fainting one way to throw Daikoku off. Kofuku rotated her hips out of the way, dodging his attack at the same time she dug the tip of her fan into this shoulder joint, he tripped and hit the ground hard. 

“Augh,” he groaned, rubbing his shoulder, and taking Kofuku’s offered hand. 

She yanked hard, pulling him over her back and slamming him into the ground on her other side, laughing maniacally. Yato wheezed and coughed as laughter echoed through the garden. 

“God, you’re cruel,” Yato said, slapping away the hand Daikoku offered him. “I should have seen that coming. That move may have been the one thing Rabo and Nora agreed on.” 

“I told you your taste in men was shit,” Kazuma commented. Yato glared at him. 

“Do you think you could convince them to defect and help us defeat your father?” Daikoku asked. 

Yato shook his head. “I’ve tried with both of them before, but Nora is too dedicated to Father. I’ve always thought that maybe if he weren’t in the picture, I could reach her but…” he sighed, sadness closing in around him.

“And Rabo?” 

Yato took a deep breath. “He’s a born killer. The Gods of Calamity are the only place he fits. We were fifteen when my father recruited him, and he had already made a name for himself as a killer. If we kill father, he’ll just go back to that. If we want him to stop killing-” his throat clenched around the words as his entire body went stiff. He hadn’t even been able to make himself think it, but the understood ending to his sentence hung heavily in the air, nonetheless. 

Yato stood, shoulders rigid, jaw clenched with unspoken grief as he glared at the ground. Bishamon realized suddenly that Yato was giving up his entire world to help them with this mission. Filled with resolve, she vaulted to her feet, jostling Kazuma who had been leaning on her shoulder. 

“Alright, Yato, fight me.” 

“Viina-” Kazuma started, alarmed. 

“Relax. If I can beat him that badly again then he isn’t worth our time anyway.” 

“You won’t be able to,” Yato growled, lifting his eyes to meet hers and twirling his swords in his hands. 

Bishamon retrieved her enormous sword from where it leaned against the tree trunk and strode across the lawn to face him. She spun her sword around a few times for show and leveled a steady gaze at Yato. He tilted his chin up and met her gaze viciously. They stood in silent evaluation of one another for several seconds before Bishamon spoke. 

“Know that if you hold back against me, I’ll kill you.” 

“I was about to say the same thing.” 

A confident smile split Yato’s lips as he sank into a fighting position, something fierce and burning rising up within him. The others sat up with interest at the change. This was certain to be a good fight. 

The first clash of their swords jarred Yato all the way down to his bones.  _ Holy shit.  _ He had greatly underestimated what absorbing a hit from a sword that big would be like. This fight was going to force him to exert more effort than he had since he left home, and he felt the excitement of a good fight prickling in his gut. 

Yato used both swords to knock her enormous monstrosity out of the way so he could kick her hard in the chest. Bishamon slid back several feet, never losing her balance. She launched back at him without missing a beat, swinging her sword for Yato’s neck. He had to lean back as far as he could to avoid being cleaved in half. Landing hard on his injured ankle, Yato nearly lost his balance and Bishamon took advantage of the distraction. Her foot collided hard with his ribs, knocking him off his feet. He coughed several times, pushing himself onto his feet quickly. 

Yato ceded ground, running and leaping onto the roof, vaulting up with the railings on each floor’s awning. Bishamon followed, swinging for Yato’s head the second her feet landed on the roof. He ducked at the last minute and her sword shattered several shingles instead. 

“Hey! Don’t destroy the building!” Hiyori called. 

Yato jumped onto a gable and used his higher ground to leap over Bishamon’s head and land behind her. He kicked her knee out from underneath her and slashed upwards across her back, showering himself in blood. 

Bishamon cried out and fell forward. She palmed a broken shingle before spinning around, still on her knees, and flinging the projectile as hard as she could at Yato’s head, blindsiding him. The clay shattered against his skull, splitting his flesh, and sending blood pouring into his eyes. He cried out and tried to wipe the blood away, but Bishamon took advantage of his distraction to body slam him off the roof and into the grounds below. 

Yato crashed into the creek below with an enormous splash. His back hit the ground hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs and he leapt up, gasping for air and shaking wet hair out of his eyes, spraying water and blood everywhere. 

“Be careful!” Hiyori cried out. 

“Don’t kill him!” Kazuma reminded. 

Right after he’d shaken the worst of the water from his hair and face, he was drenched again when Bishamon hit the water right in front of him. He shook his head again, annoyed, and readjusted his grip on his swords. The water had made his hands slippery and if the grips on the swords had been poorer quality, he never would have maintained his hold on them. 

Blood mixed with water ran in rivulets down Bishamon’s back and legs, staining the water around her red. He knew he must look the same, blood streaming down his face with the water. Bishamon wasted no time in trying to overwhelm Yato with an onslaught of attacks. In between them Yato feinted to the left and attacked to the right, but Bishamon saw through his feint and swung her sword in his path; gouging a long gash down his bicep when he ducked so low he felt his spine pop. Yato fell into the water and flipped backward out of Bishamon’s range as she brought her sword down for a kill shot. 

“Remember it’s just a spar!” Daikoku called, suddenly on his feet wearing a concerned expression. 

They both ignored him. 

Yato rolled to his feet and leaped at Bishamon again, growling, but she lowered her shoulder and plowed him down, knocking him flat on his back in the water. She kicked him hard in the side and sent him flying out of the creek and onto dry ground, trailing water like a comet. Yato crashed into a flower bed, coming to a halt painfully against some decorative rocks. He pushed himself to his feet, panting. 

“I think that’s enough! You’re both bleeding badly!” Hiyori called. Yato scoffed. 

“Please,” he growled, breath fogging out in a cool mist, his vicious tone surprising the rest of the group, “I’ve gotten hurt worse than this getting out of bed.”

“I want to hear that story!” Yukine called. 

“Of course, you have, you’re an idiot,” Bishamon replied, voice similarly brutal. If Yato didn’t know any better he’d say she was radiating heat so strong the flowers nearest to her wilted slightly. 

Yato attacked Bishamon again, pushing her back through the flowerbeds. 

“The groundskeepers are going to freak out,” Kofuku groaned, observing the trenches her feet had dug. 

Bishamon dropped her sword and darted through Yato’s defenses and simply grabbed him by the waist and lifted him above her head, ignoring the slashes he dealt to her arms, and threw him bodily into the bamboo thicket. His body left a ten-foot-long trail of broken and bent bamboo in his wake. Metal flashed in the shadows and several bamboo spears, cut sharp, flew out of the dark, aimed right for her vital organs. She batted the spears away with disinterest as more bamboo came flying out of the thicket, closely followed by Yato who was now sporting many smaller cuts from his impacts with the bamboo. 

“So, should we stop them? Like, are they going to kill each other?” Yukine asked, watching the brutal fight with interest. 

“I don’t think she’ll kill him,” Kazuma said, sounding uncertain. 

“Do we think she can?” Kofuku asked, “he was the most infamous God of Calamity for a reason. Look at him fight, and did anyone else see his breath?” 

“I  _ did,  _ but I thought he didn’t have any chi… still he’s really good, he’s compensating for his injuries well and matching her blow for blow,” Daikoku pointed out. 

The brawling pair crashed into the bushes and Hiyori leapt to her feet. 

“Alright, stop, that’s enough!”

It seemed like the two didn’t hear her, so she stooped down and snatched the khanjar from an unsuspecting Kazuma and flung them at the dueling pair. They passed inches from their noses before embedding deeply in the wall behind them. Both turned to look at her, confusion breaking through their battle haze. 

“That’s  _ enough _ !” Hiyori shouted. “Look what you’ve done!”

Yato and Bishamon looked around the garden with increasingly guilty faces as they observed the destruction in their wake. Dirt was carved out of the ground in trenches, flowers were wilted and sprayed with blood, bushes were crushed, and the ground was strewn with debris. 

“Sorry, Hiyori!” Yato called, reaching over and prying Kazuma’s khanjar out of the wall and tromping across the lawn to where the others were. 

Yato plopped down between Yukine and Hiyori, shaking his hair out and spraying the two of them with blood and water. 

“That’s disgusting!” Yukine snapped, shoving him away. 

“Sorry! Sorry! I forgot I was bleeding!” 

“Did the two of you have fun?” Kazuma asked, disapproval evident in his voice. 

“Best fight I’ve had in a while,” Yato replied, tossing Kazuma’s knives to him and leaning back, turning his face to the sky. “It was nice to let loose, it’s been forever.” 

Hiyori had brought out a first aid kit after what had happened during Yato’s initial skills test and now she was glad she had, and if anything, she was now a little worried she hadn’t brought out enough. She opened her kit now and grabbed Yato’s cut bicep, but he pulled away. 

“Stitch her up first, I’m fine.” 

“I want to hear the story of you getting hurt getting out of bed,” Yukine reminded. 

He took up Hiyori’s place and made to start prying pieces of clay out of the wound in Yato’s forehead but stopped. 

“Whoa,” he said suddenly, pushing Yato’s hair back roughly, “Kazuma look at this. Kofuku wasn’t imagining things.” 

“What?” Yato asked, trying to pull away from Yukine’s hands as Kazuma and Kofuku crowded around him. 

“How cool~” Kofuku trilled. 

“That shouldn’t be possible,” Kazuma said thoughtfully, taking Yato’s chin and directing his face much more gently than Yukine had been doing. 

“ _ What _ ?” Yato asked again, starting to get a little freaked out. Kazuma picked something out of his wound and Yato winced, before gaping at the shard of frozen blood, complete with a piece of roof clay, between Kazuma’s fingers. 

“When he got angry earlier everything got colder,” Bishamon supplied, “I thought you said Yato didn’t have any chi.” 

“What does my blood freezing have to do with chi?” Yato asked, now looking anywhere but the frozen blood. It was still freaking him out. Kazuma gave him a surprised look but tossed the bloodcicle to the side. 

“Your aura is what connects you to the natural world, every living thing has it, which is why I was so confused when you appeared to not have any. Obviously, we were wrong, and you do.”

“I’m lost.”

“Chi is the natural energy of the world, your aura is made of it, and when it flares it has the ability to affect the physical world around you,” Kofuku elaborated. “Everyone’s is different.”

“I’d gotten chills from you a few times,” Kazuma admitted, “but I’d thought it was my imagination because you’ve got that scary face.” There were general sounds of ascent. “Now it looks like that’s just what your aura does. Earlier when your aura flared your skin must have cooled and frozen the blood on your forehead, and your breath came out as a fog, which I’ve seen from you before and dismissed it. Again, because I thought you just didn’t have an aura.”

“So, if chi can affect the world around you then I wasn’t imagining Bishamon wilted those flowers by making it hot?” 

Kazuma shook his head. “Viina exudes heat, you create cold, Hiyori stirs up the wind, we think Kofuku’s chaotic aura can trigger disasters where the natural order is already in flux.”

“How did I not know this?” Yato asked, even as he thought that his father had probably deliberately kept this information from him in order to control him better. 

“It’s not very common,” Kazuma said. “Only people with training can do it, it’s not something normal people can do. You  _ shouldn’t  _ be able to. Can I try something? I want to test a theory.” Yato blinked up at him and nodded. 

“Sure.” 

Kazuma nodded and placed his palm flat against Yato’s chest, eyes closed and brow furrowed in focus. Yato gasped when his hand started glowing golden, he’d never seen anyone besides his father do that. He fought off the line of panic that tried to rise at the sight; Kazuma wouldn’t hurt him. A warm sensation spread through Yato’s chest, so warm it was uncomfortable, bordering on painful, and he’d just opened his mouth to ask Kazuma to stop when he  _ felt  _ Kazuma’s energy just  _ stop _ like it hit a barrier before a painful green light erupted from somewhere within Yato’s body and physically forced Kazuma’s hand away. 

Both men shouted in pain, recoiling from one another. Hiyori and Bishamon looked up from what they were doing, shocked. 

“What the hell was that?” Yato asked, thoroughly freaked out, looking at Kazuma for answers.

“A spell,” Kazuma said, wincing as he examined the red smarting flesh of his palm. “A powerful one.” 

“A spell?” Kofuku asked. 

“If I had to guess that spell was put in place by your father to keep anyone else from tampering with your chi so he can remain in complete control of you.” Yato gulped and nodded, curling a hand over his chest where the light had originated. 

“That sounds like something he’d do.” 

“...That’s rough, buddy,” Yukine said, patting Yato sympathetically on the head. He took note of the slowly brewing storm on Yato’s face and decided to play the distraction game. “But don’t think it will get you out of telling me that story.” Yato blinked up at him, storm clearing, and laughed. Kazuma retreated to Bishamon’s side, though his mind was still clearly on what happened.

“Honestly? My feet got tangled in Rabo’s hair and I fell into the fire pit.” Yato held up his forearms to show off some nasty burn scars, then pulled aside the collar of his shirt to reveal more there. Yukine smacked his forehead.

“Of course, you did.”

“The great and terrible Hollow, ladies and gentlemen,” Kazuma said distractedly, eyes on where Hiyori was tending to Bishamon’s back, but mind still elsewhere. 

“His hair is really long! It’s not that unreasonable!”

“It’s also white, it should have been clearly visible in the firelight.” 

“I was sleepy, and the fire had died down! That’s why I was getting up!” The rest of the group shook their heads. 

“Wasn’t Rabo keeping you warm enough?” Kofuku asked, grinning sweetly. 

Yato hmphed and tried to look away, but Yukine jerked his head back into place and continued picking tiny fragments of clay out of his head injury. 

Kazuma pulled himself back into the present to ask,“Is there anything you can tell us about the Gods of Calamity that might help us?” 

All eyes turned to Yato, who gulped and tried again to turn his face away from the others only to have Yukine force his face back forward. 

It should be easy for him to do. He’d already turned his back on them, why couldn’t he spill their secrets? Still, the words wouldn’t come. 

“Rabo fights with an okatana,” Kazuma prodded. 

“Right, um…” The words dug their claws into his throat and refused to be dislodged. 

“What about something easier? How about Kugaha? What’s he like?” Hiyori asked. 

“Oh, he’s a lunatic,” Yato replied with relief. “He’s got this way with medicines and poisons, which is why we keep him around. Mostly he’s our doctor, but if you give him enough time to prepare, he can wipe out an entire room of people in minutes. He would also make these smoke bombs that were great for cover, or he could add in stuff to burn people’s eyes and blind them, so they were easy pickings.” He winced at his own words. 

“Okay, what about Nora?”

“She usually fights with a sword, but she can and will use anything she can get her hands on to royally fuck you up. One time I saw her beat the shit out of a guy with a wooden spoon, so I just don’t know.” 

“That only leaves Rabo, and we’ve had run-ins with him in the past, so we already know a fair amount about him.” 

“Wait, what?” Something about that sentence was wrong, Yato knew it, but he couldn’t place it at first. He’d already known about Rabo meeting Kazuma, but still something was bothering him. “RIGHT! You guys don’t know about Fujisaki!” 

“Who is Fujisaki?”

“The fifth God of Calamity.”

“The fifth God of Calamity?” The Six repeated in almost perfect unison. 

“Whoa, scary,” Yato commented. 

“There’s a fifth God of Calamity?” Bishamon pressed. 

“Yeah, he’s a spy, I think? He’s almost never at the compound and Dad always meets with him in private. He’s only ever been to family dinner, like, twice, and he insulted my cooking the second time. There was  _ nothing wrong with my mashed potatoes _ !!” 

“You guys had family dinners?” Yukine asked. Hiyori finished up with Bishamon and moved on to Yato. 

“What’s he like?” Daikoku asked, trying to keep the discussion on track. 

“I don’t know, I avoided him when he was home, he freaked me out.” 

“What about him freaked you out?” Kazuma asked, and from his tone of voice, Yato knew he was thinking that if Yato could be in love with Rabo then it must take a lot to freak him out. Jerk. 

“It’s hard to explain, but he gave me a bad vibe. The way he looked at me made me feel like he knows more about me than I do.” Hiyori stopped disinfecting his bicep to give him a shocked look. 

“You think he knows what happened during the gaps in your memory?” He nodded silently; wide eyes locked on hers. Her brow furrowed in consideration. 

“Gaps in your memory?” Yukine repeated, looking curiously between them. 

“And you never got the feeling that the others knew what you did during your missing time?” Hiyori asked. 

“I think… whatever I did, I did alone. I never got the sense that Rabo or Nora knew any more than I did.” 

“You have gaps in your memory?” Yukine pressed. 

Yato nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, Father sometimes... takes control of my body and forces me to… well, I don’t know. Nothing good certainly, but I never have memories of whatever it is. All I can tell you is that I got the feeling that Fujisaki  _ knew _ what I didn’t about the things I’ve done. He rarely stayed the night, and he was never in the compound for long, but when he did come by Father always assigned us a kill mission not long after.”

“Would you recognize him if you saw him again?”

“Yeah.” 

“And you’re sure you don’t know anything else about him?” Daikoku asked. 

“Not that I  _ remember _ ,” Yato said pointedly. “I can’t even tell you if he can fight.” 

The bell for lunch rang and the group slowly climbed to their feet before Kazuma looked around with a dawning expression of horror. 

“What?” Yato asked, hackles already raised from their discussion. 

“Isn’t today Wednesday?” The words created a stir in the Six that Yato didn’t understand. 

“Yeah? So?”

“Wednesday is the day the gardeners come in during our lunch hour to maintain the grounds. We need to run, or they’ll yell at us and make us help clean up.” The group made haste out of the garden, Yato trailing behind, confused. 

“I don’t understand.”

“The gardeners are mean,” Kofuku elaborated. “Tenjin gave them permission to make us work if we mess up the gardens.”

“One time one of them hit me over the head with a tiny shovel and when I told Tenjin about it he said I probably deserved it and gave me extra drills,” Yukine told him, rubbing his head at the memory. 

“They might kill us if they see what you’ve done,” Kazuma said, eyeing a blood-splattered peace lily like it was holding a knife to his throat. He grabbed Yato by the wrist and dragged him into the safety of the building.

* * *

After lunch, Yukine disappeared while Yato was washing dishes. He’d gotten progressively broodier during the meal until he’d swept out of the room silently while Yato was clearing the leftovers away. Normally Yato wasn’t one to pursue someone who clearly wanted to be left alone, but he thought he knew why Yukine had vanished.  _ Sometimes _ , Yato thought,  _ things that aren’t aired out start to fester.  _

After about an hour of turning the palace upside down Yato found Yukine sitting high on the roof beside a gargoyle so the fleeting eye would mistake him for another decoration. 

“Pretty good hiding place, I’ve been looking for you forever.” 

“Couldn’t have found the realization that I want to be left alone, though,” he muttered. 

“Actually, I found that too, but I ignored it.” 

Yukine huffed and gave him an annoyed look. “So? What is it? What did you want to say?” 

“Nothing, really, but I thought there might be something you want to say to me.” 

“What would I want to say to you?” 

“I don’t know, something along the lines of ‘I trusted you and you’re a murderer and a liar’ or something. You still seem pretty mad, or were you  _ not  _ intentionally hurting me when you were picking pieces of roof out of my face?” Yato sat down about a foot from Yukine and looked up to the sky. 

“Well there, you just said it.”

“You should tell me what you’re feeling. It’s better to get it all out now than to bottle up until I have to let you kick my ass again just to get through to you.” 

“How do you  _ think _ I’m feeling?” Yukine snapped, forgetting that he was trying to act aloof. “I  _ trusted  _ you and you  _ lied  _ to me, and now everyone is acting like it was no big deal and the longer it goes on the angrier I get!  _ Nothing _ about you was real, all you’ve done is lie to us!”

“I lied about not knowing how to fight, but I never lied about the other stuff, Yukine. I care about you,” Yato replied, struggling to keep his voice calm while Yukine’s kept growing louder and louder.  _ Keep your temper, don’t get annoyed with him. _

“How am I supposed to trust anything you say?” 

Yato had already given a lot of thought to how he would answer this question. “I know you don’t have any reason to believe me, but you trust Kazuma, don’t you? Ask him.”

“What does Kazuma have to do with anything?”

“Ask him what he said to make me stay when he gave me the chance to run.”

* * *

“What did you say to him?” Yukine demanded, throwing open the dojo doors. Kazuma looked around for a second like he expected Yukine to be taking that tone with someone  _ else _ . 

“Who?”

“Yato. What did you say that made him stay when you gave him an out?” Understanding flooded Kazuma’s face. 

“Did he tell you about that?”

“Just answer me!”

“I just said you needed him,” Kazuma replied, confused about Yukine’s confrontational tone. “Is that what you wanted to know?” 

Yukine looked surprised for a moment before storming out the way he’d come in, brushing past Bishamon.

“What’s the matter with him?” She asked, looking after him curiously. 

“I think he’s angry with Yato, he asked what I said to make him stay.” 

“Well, what  _ did _ you say?”

“I just reminded him of what he promised to Yukine.” 

Bishamon fell quiet and crossed the room to brace Kazuma’s punching bag. Kazuma resumed his punching. 

“He’s not how I thought he would be,” she said eventually. 

“I don’t think Yato is how anyone expected a God of Calamity to be.”

* * *

Yato was jolted awake in the early hours of the morning by Yukine standing over him and prodding him hard in the ribs. 

“Get up.”

“No.”

“Get UP.” 

He prodded harder and Yato groaned. Yukine ripped the blankets off and snatched the pillow from beneath his head. Yato sat up, miffed, and blinked blearily at Yukine. 

“Am I being kidnapped again?” 

“Yes. Now get up and get dressed or I’m dragging you out of here.” Yato did as he was told with much grumbling and complaining. “Be quiet,” Yukine hissed. “We’re sneaking out. How’s your ankle, can you handle high jumps?”

“I’ll be fine,” Yato said warily, “unless you’re going to kill me.” 

Instead of replying Yukine slid the window open and stepped out onto the roof. His aura vanished. Yato followed suit. 

“Where are we going?”

“Just follow my lead.” 

Yato shrugged and figured that if Yukine was about to make an assassination attempt he could always just take the kid’s staff and hold it over his head. 

Yukine retrieved both their weapons from the gutter where he’d apparently hidden them as Yato slid his window shut behind them. Then they ran all the way to the edge of the building and vaulted onto the wall from there. They ran along the wall past the place where they had jumped to go to the Blood Moon falls, then on to the eastern wall. There was no patrol in sight and Yato had to believe that this was by Yukine’s design.

He became even more curious about Yukine’s intent when they jumped off the wall into the forest and Yukine began taking measures to avoid being followed. As the eastern horizon grew increasingly pink, Yato grew more and more concerned about what could possibly merit all this cloak and dagger stuff until they reached a bamboo thicket and Yukine’s pace slowed. 

Yato was impressed by Yukine’s ability to remain silent on the densely populated forest floor. He mimicked Yukine’s slow pace and remained quiet, wondering what this was all about. He watched Yukine observe the ground carefully until he stopped and laid flat on his belly, gesturing for Yato to do the same. Once he had complied Yukine reached behind them and carefully pulled a camouflage of woven vines over them. Yato couldn’t help but wonder exactly how much time Yukine spent in this random patch of forest as he faced forward once more and fell still, staring straight ahead. All questions Yato tried to ask were shushed. It wasn’t until the sun had nearly risen in full that Yukine pointed straight ahead. 

“Watch.” 

Yato did as he was told, more confused than ever, until something began to stir slowly, and a real live Giant Panda sat up and began shaking out its fur. Yato gasped quietly with mixed shock and delight. 

“Wait for it.” 

Yato waited again, this time with bated breath, and was not let down when a ridiculously small baby panda also sat up and began to stumble around it’s parent. Yato had to clamp both hands over his mouth to silence his delighted squeal. 

“The mom is Mei Mei and the baby is Lei Lei. She’s just a few weeks old.”

“How did you know?” 

“I found this place a few years ago. There was a different baby then, I called him Bao. They only stay with their mothers until they’re a year old. I come back to check on them sometimes, but they can’t see you or they’ll leave.” 

“Do the others know?”

Yukine shook his head. “I thought about telling them a couple of times, but I thought they would tell me to leave them alone.” 

“So that’s why you were so careful about being followed.” 

He nodded. “Also… I kinda liked having a secret. We’re in such close quarters in the palace, everyone knows everything about each other. Sometimes it’s a lot to deal with. I liked having something just for me.” 

Yato cringed, he was  _ awfully  _ familiar with the pains of living in close quarters with his family.

“Thank you for sharing it with me,” Yato said, smiling. 

“Did you ever have something like this in the Forest of Despair?” 

Yato shook his head. “Once when I was a kid, I found this little bird nest. I would sneak out every day to see if the eggs had hatched yet, I was so excited to see the baby birds once they did. Then, one morning Dad was weirdly nice, he cooked me breakfast and I was really happy, thinking that I’d finally been a good enough boy that he’d started to love me, but when I snuck out later to check on the nest the eggs were gone. Turns out I had eaten them for breakfast. When I asked Father about it, he told me that I was someone who could only bring destruction and I needed to stop fooling myself otherwise. That night was the first time I ever ran away from home. I think I only got away because he wasn’t expecting it.” Yato crossed his arms and rested his chin on them, watching the pandas go about their business. 

“Holy shit,” Yukine breathed. 

“Language,” Yato said tiredly. “This is nice, they’re so cute and fluffy.” He ignored the horrified look Yukine was giving him. “Maybe I don’t mind being Trainee Panda after all.”

Yukine snorted. “I think you qualify as Master Panda now.” 

“I guess so.” He smiled as Mei Mei passed Lei Lei a bamboo shoot. “How did you pick their names?” 

“From a kid’s story about pandas I read once.” 

“Very creative.”

“Shut up.” 

“Can I be honest?” 

“It would be a first for you, but you can certainly try.” 

Ouch. Maybe he deserved that. “I like the secret you were keeping a lot better than the one I was keeping.” 

Yukine bit his lip, then nodded. “Kazuma told me what he said to you.”

“And you believed him?”

“...yeah.”

“Do you still want to talk about it?”

“Maybe not right now.” 

Yato nodded and the two turned back to watch the pandas until the pink had faded entirely from the sky. 

“We should go, the others will be up by now and they’ll think I murdered you or something.” 

“Another honesty moment: I thought you were going to kill me too.”

Yukine didn’t reply. He was focusing carefully on the pandas. When they both turned their backs he quietly got to his feet and edged away from the bamboo forest. Yato followed, not speaking until he was sure they were well out of earshot of the pandas. 

“So why the weapons?” 

“This is a forest, Yato. There are predators. Did you think a tiger would be impressed by your fearsome reputation?”

“There are tigers in these woods?”

“It’s the jungle, Yato. There are lots of things.”

Several times during the quiet walk back Yato nearly brought up the elephant in the room but kept telling himself it was better to let Yukine do it himself. He was nearly driven mad waiting, but finally, Yukine asked the question that was on his mind. 

“Did you ever…  _ like  _ being a God of Calamity?” 

Yato’s feet stalled. All the wind rushed out of him as he once again had to blink away the phantom of his past. 

“Yes. I did.” 

There was a very long silence before Yukine resumed walking without another word. It wasn’t until they were nearly within sight of the wall that Yukine stopped walking and spoke again. 

“I decided that I’m not going to ask about your past anymore.” 

“What?”

“I don’t care what you did before, I want to help you stop being afraid like you helped me.” 

Yato’s breath choked off despite his best effort. He stood, jaw working against the silence, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for food. Yukine flushed bright red and scrambled up the wall without talking again. 

They made their way together to the empty kitchen to make breakfast and ten minutes later Kazuma burst in, visibly calming when he laid eyes on the pair. 

“We didn’t know where you two were!”

“Where else would we be?” Yato asked. 

“Breakfast is almost ready,” Yukine added. 

“Yukine, why don’t you start on some bacon?”

“Alright!”

Kazuma gave them a puzzled look before leaving to unsound the alarm. He returned several minutes later with the rest of the Striking Six. Yato and Yukine happily served them as they took their seats.

“So where were you guys this morning?” Hiyori asked. 

“We were here.”

“This was the first place we looked,” Kofuku said. 

“In that case, it’s a secret,” Yukine replied, grinning at Yato. 

“Secret?” Kazuma repeated. 

“Yup.”

Yato and Yukine tucked into their meal, eating so fast that the others had no choice but to start eating or all the food would be gone. 

“We thought Yukine had taken you somewhere to beat you up,” Daikoku said. 

“Oh, please,” Yato said dismissively as if that hadn’t also been his first thought.

“Can we get a hint?” Hiyori asked. 

“Nope, sorry,” Yukine replied. 

“So, I take it you two are thick as thieves again,” Bishamon said. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” The two replied together. Hiyori burst out laughing. 

“You two are just alike.”

“No way! I’m nothing like that lazy good for nothing!”

“ _ Hey! _ I’m good for  _ some  _ things!” Everyone laughed together at Yato’s expense and the meal continued with a light mood.

* * *

“Alright, no more holding back,” Hiyori said, leveling a confident gaze at Yato. The glint in her eye and the quirk of her lips was a challenge he couldn’t resist. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

It was going to take everything Yato had to fight her as an equal while also fending off Kazuma’s mental attacks. He was  _ still _ shit at that. Yato was nervous but also looking forward to the chance to fight her for real. Sparring with Hiyori had been something he’d wanted to do since his arrival, there was something incredible about the way people’s energy roared around them during a fight, and the way Hiyori moved and danced around her opponent was like music given form, and he wanted nothing more than to be her counter melody. 

Yato knew that this would be easier if he stepped back into the cold place he used to live in. He was apprehensive about showing it in full to the Six, but they needed to know what they were dealing with and Yato needed to get through this. 

He took a deep breath and felt the frost settle along his limbs as he built walls up around himself. 

“Come at me, then,” he challenged, recognizing the edge in his own voice. 

Hiyori spun across the mat at him, eyes reflecting the place she took herself to when  _ she  _ fought. Yato wondered what it was like there. 

Hiyori went low and Yato half grimaced, remembering his promise to not go easy on her. He swung his leg around and kicked her savagely in the head, sending her crashing to the mat. His decency cried out in protest, so he took a step deeper into the killing cold to drown it out. 

Hiyori rolled to her feet without hesitation and leaped back at him, no more than a blur of steel and flesh as she lashed out and spun away, ponytail trailing behind her. Yato couldn’t help but think that her face, flushed with exertion and still with deadly focus, was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. So much for the cold keeping out distractions. His lips quirked at the corners as he searched for opportunities to attack. He took a step forward and prepared a slash to her face, but Hiyori’s foot swung up out of nowhere and connected with the underside of his jaw. 

Yato’s teeth clicked together as his head snapped back. He lost his balance and hit the mat.  _ Now _ things were getting interesting. 

Yato lunged and she parried and the two danced across the mat, gaining and losing ground in turn. It wasn’t until Hiyori turned and ran up a column, flipping in the air to attack him from above that Yato started getting creative. He launched off the mat to the fire-spitting canons in the pit of the room and Hiyori followed, eyes glowing with exhilaration. 

Kazuma had been waiting for Yato to become too engrossed in the fight to remember his mental defenses, so when it happened, he shattered Yato’s barrier and dropped him like a rock. Hiyori took advantage of this to kick him across the room. Yato hit the ground rolling then leaped to his feet, struggling to fight off Kazuma while fending off Hiyori. Sweat poured off his brow and he was breathing hard. Neither of them was going easy for sure. Yato gritted his teeth, knowing that he was going to have to go full God of Calamity if he was going to win this fight. He was still hesitant, but he  _ had  _ promised not to hold back. 

Yato straightened up, calling to the killer inside of him. The killer called back eagerly, rising to the surface- and the cold followed with him. It settled around Yato’s shoulders like a thick winter cloak, dropping the room’s temperature several degrees. His breath fogged out in front of his face, and though his eyes never left Hiyori he could hear the room reacting to his change. Never before had the Striking Six seen Yaboku in full force. It was about time they learned who they were dealing with. 

“How _? _ ” He heard Kazuma ask, no doubt pondering the exact nature of the spell Yato’s father had put on him, but Yato didn’t have time to think about that right now. 

Hiyori paused momentarily to reevaluate the situation before her next attack. She took in a deep breath and her own aura flares, tousling her hair, just as Kazuma had said earlier.

Yato blocked Hiyori’s one-handed strike too easily. A thunk behind his head clued him into what he’d missed as wet warmth spilled down his cheek. She’d thrown a dagger while he’d been focused on blocking her attack. 

Yato leaped on top of one of the spiked training dummies, balancing on its flat head. Hiyori leaped up behind him, hopping from dummy to dummy gracefully. She swung straight down and Yato crossed his swords over his head, catching her naginata. The force of impact forced him to step back and brace himself on another dummy, so he was straddling the gap between them awkwardly.

“To think we could have been having this much fun all along. I’m almost done warming up,” Yato teased. 

“Really? And here I was thinking you hadn’t even made it that far,” she challenged. “I didn’t know a God of Calamity would be so easy to defend against.”

“Maybe it’s time I get started and show you what a God of Calamity really is.” 

“I’m waiting.” 

Yato turned his blades away from her and pushed both his hands forward at once, the flats of his knuckles hitting square in the middle of Hiyori’s chest and sending her flying back. She flipped over in the air and pushed herself off a dummy’s head to regain control before landing on another dummy several feet away, back perfectly straight, naginata tucked diagonally behind her back. 

“Your fighting name should be Tabby, because you always land on your feet,” Yato said. 

“Yours should be Tortoise because of how slowly you move.” 

Yato met her jab with a burst of speed, launching across the dummy heads so quickly that she barely had time to react. He landed on the same dummy she was on just as she leaped straight up, slashing at him as she went. Yato was forced to throw himself back gracelessly to avoid being sliced open and he crashed to the ground, hitting every spiked wooden limb on his way down, bruising badly. 

One limb broke off and was pinned beneath him, knocking the air out of his lungs when he hit the ground. He heard Bishamon cheering loudly as he labored to his feet, still slightly stunned from the impact. He leaped straight into the air and landed on top of another dummy, breathing hard. 

Kazuma attacked his mind again while Yato and Hiyori sized each other up, but Yato was much better prepared and managed to stay on his feet. There was no denying that Kazuma was still way better at this than he was, however. 

Yato closed the gap between himself and Hiyori, this time ready for Hiyori’s slash. He fainted left and attacked right, and she parried with the handle of her naginata. She wasn’t prepared for Yato to wrap his arm around her middle and tackle her, however, and he knocked her off her perch and dragged the both of them through the canopy of studded limbs. She was skilled enough at her craft to avoid a major head injury, but the force of being sandwiched between Yato and the ground stunned her enough that he was able to pry her naginata out of her hands. 

“You know I’ve always liked cranes,” He murmured in her ear, using the heat from her body to shake off the cold and lock the killer in him away. She made a small surprised sound as he leaned down and kissed her, grinning triumphantly. 

“Alright, that’s enough,” Bishamon shouted, startling both of them. Yato jerked up and hit his head hard on one of the rotating arms. “If you’re just going to use this as an opportunity to flirt then this is a waste of time!”

“Ow…” Yato groaned, climbing carefully off Hiyori so he wouldn’t knock into any rotating arms. “That was a perfectly reasonable fighting to flirting ratio!” Hiyori sat up carefully, wincing. 

“Are you alright?”

“I feel like I got run over by a cart, but it’s nothing that a hot bath wouldn’t fix. What about you?”

“Great,” he replied, “and sorry.”

“No, no, I’m glad you didn’t hold back. It’s important to train to the best of your abilities.” 

He got carefully to his feet and leaped back on top of the dummies, Hiyori followed suit and together they made their way back to solid ground.

* * *

“I’ll scratch your back, you scratch mine?” Yato turned to see Hiyori standing in the door to his room, outlined in candlelight, holding an armful of medical supplies. 

“God yes, I’m sore all over from falling into those wooden warriors. I can’t imagine how you must be feeling after you fell onto them and I fell onto you.” Hiyori winced. 

“Not great. But it  _ has  _ been a while since I’ve had a good bruise.” 

Yato chuckled. “In that case, I’m glad I could help.” 

“Let’s start small, your cut cheek and my scraped jaw.” 

“Oh geez, I forgot about that, sorry.” 

“It’s fine, I only went that low to see if you really weren’t holding back.” Yato blinked in surprise. 

“Did I pass your test?”

“You did,” she replied, leaning forward to disinfect his cheek. “I was very impressed with your fighting, but…”

“You weren’t expecting the cold.” 

“Yeah, it was quite the difference. Normally you’re so warm. Kazuma is still with Tenjin, trying to figure out what the hell that spell your father used was to allow you to use your aura like that and do basically nothing else.”

“I don’t know either. I used to be like that all the time, though. When I think about it, it scares me.”

“I like the look in your eyes now much better.” 

Yato smiled warmly before leaning forward to give her a tender kiss while slipping the disinfectant out of her hand. 

“Me too,” he agreed, tilting her chin up so he could survey the damage his foot had done to her jaw. 

Neither of them would be able to move in the morning, regardless of what ointments they applied, nevertheless, they took turns tending to the bruises on each other’s backs. 

“No peeking,” Hiyori said as she slid her robe down. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, like the very idea offended him. 

He very desperately wanted to ask her to stay, but they would both be sore enough in the morning without the extra, ah, help. 


	10. 9- Counting Stars

Yato’s muscles screamed as he  _ slowly _ prepared breakfast the next morning. His hand crept overhead inch by inch to grab some seasoning, groaning the entire time until Kazuma walked in and rolled his eyes. 

“You can’t possibly be in that much pain.” 

“I’m never doing kung fu again, this is horrible.” 

Kazuma sighed and took Yato’s utensils away. 

“I’ll do it, you good for nothing.” 

Yato ignored the insult and walked carefully to the table, sitting with much effort before turning his head to oversee Kazuma’s work. 

“No, no, no. Mix that slower or it won’t turn out right.  _ Yes, _ the speed matters, Kazuma. Do as I tell you.” Kazuma lobbed a grape at Yato that bounced off his forehead and rolled away and out of sight. “I’m not picking that up.” 

Hiyori edged in with painstaking care and sat with as much wincing as Yato had. 

“My entire body is black and blue,” she groaned. 

“Mine too. Whose dumb idea was sparring?”

“I don’t know, but I think we should blame Kazuma.” 

“Damn it, Kazuma,” Hiyori hissed leaning her head back against the chair. 

“I’m not sorry,” he replied. He hesitated before turning to Yato, “What do I do next?”

* * *

After the strange behavior of Yato’s chi during his spars with Hiyori and Bishamon, Tenjin wanted to view the phenomenon and see if he could intuit an explanation. Unfortunately, Yato couldn’t just summon the cold, he had to dredge up his killer instincts and hope the cold would follow, and it wasn’t easy. The dredging up and subsequent suppressing of the part of himself that he was most ashamed took its toll, both mentally and physically. 

Yato collapsed back onto the ground, covered in sweat and trembling.

“You shouldn’t be  _ able  _ to affect the environment with your chi sealed away like that,” Tenjin said thoughtfully. 

“I had wondered if his father enchanted him to be able to access his chi only when his heart was that of a cold-blooded killer, and if something like that was even possible,” Kazuma suggested, crouching by Yato’s side with a hand on his shoulder.

“It seems unlikely but I don’t know for sure, the Sorcerer has a better understanding of chi and how to manipulate auras than even I do, I can’t rule it out. Yato, would you allow me to test the seal?” Yato sighed and nodded, not bothering to sit up. 

He winced, preparing for the flash of pain when Tenjin placed a palm against his chest and reached out, looking for the lock on Yato’s chi. It was no less painful for knowing what to expect when whatever was inside him lashed out at Tenjin, burning the both of them. Yato turned his head away, breath hissing out through his gritted teeth. 

“Fascinating,” Tenjin said. 

“Yeah, I’m a conundrum wrapped in a riddle,” Yato grumbled, pushing himself up. 

Kazuma placed a supporting hand on his back to help him and straightened his rumpled hair absentmindedly. 

“I want to do some research about this, but I may need to leave the Jade Palace to do it…”

“At least the day after tomorrow is the spring festival, so we can take the day off and enjoy the festivities,” Kazuma said to Yato, helping him to his feet. 

“Really? A festival? I’ve never been to one before!” Yato exclaimed, perking up at once. Kazuma smiled, glad his proclamation had had the desired effect. “I can’t wait!”

* * *

Yato took the endless staircase down with a spring in his step, dragging Hiyori by the hand, practically vibrating with excitement. The rest of the Striking Six followed more slowly- and with more dignity- Tenjin and Tsuyu bringing up the rear. All were dressed in festival clothes, Yato borrowing some of Kazuma’s because he had none of his own. 

Bishamon had proposed the idea of skipping this year to get more training in, but besides the general belief that Yato would attend by whatever means necessary, Kazuma pointed out that they needed a break, and that seeing their heroes attending the festival, as usual, would put the villagers at ease. 

Which is to say: Kazuma wanted to go too. 

Miraculously, the bruises that had made it ‘too painful’ to train yesterday were  _ not  _ making it too painful for him to drag Hiyori down the stairs. Daikoku was just starting to suspect they’d been conned into taking it easy on him when Yato twisted the wrong way and cried out in pain, stumbling, and nearly falling. 

“See?” Hiyori scolded, “I told you to be more careful!”

“I’ll be careful tomorrow! Hurry up!” Yato replied, nonetheless moving with more care now.

She shook her head tolerantly and sped up, picking her way down the stairs carefully, her lips quirking in amusement at Yato’s excitement. The bright spark burning in him now contrasted so starkly with the chill that had blanketed him during their fight that she had a hard time believing they were both the same man. 

“You’re acting like a child,” Bishamon said, only to be shushed by Kazuma. 

“Let him enjoy himself, Viina, he probably hasn’t had many opportunities for festivities in his life,” he murmured. She looked from Kazuma back to Yato’s glowing excitement, then scoffed. 

“He’s too innocent to be a God of Calamity.” Kazuma smiled. 

Kofuku and Daikoku hung toward the back of the group, watching the two other couples and remembering what it was like to be young. They wore matching fond smiles as Yato dragged Hiyori by the hand and Yukine kept pace beside them, trying not to get washed away in the tide of Yato’s excitement. Bishamon and Kazuma walked behind the trio with twined fingers, talking quietly and smiling. 

Daikoku glanced over his shoulder at Tenjin and Tsuyu, who seemed to be on a remarkably similar chain of thought to him.

“I’m glad you decided to join us this year, Master.” 

“It’s good to remind oneself of the things that we’re fighting for, so we don’t become lost in the things we’re fighting against,” Tenjin said, smiling at the younger pairs. 

“I remember when we were that young, Dai, so carefree.” 

“A little  _ too  _ carefree,” Tenjin teased. “You nearly destroyed this very festival on one of your dates.” Daikoku laughed. 

“Oh, what, and you never caused any trouble when you were that age?” 

“On the contrary, I probably got into more trouble than the two of you.”

Kofuku grinned mischievously. “Is that a challenge?” 

“I doubt that you would find it challenging to create a record amount of trouble, Kofuku, but try not to ruin the festival for everyone else. I fear Yato would never forgive you.” Kofuku giggled. 

“No promises.”

* * *

The nearer they grew to the bottom of the stairs the more impatient Yato became. The festival drum was getting louder and Yato was anxious to see what he’d been missing all these years. He kept switching between wanting to know everything and not wanting to spoil the surprise for himself. 

“Will there be food?” 

“Lots of food,” Hiyori affirmed. 

“And can I bill it to the old man?” 

“You don’t have any money, so you’ll have too,” Hiyori laughed. 

“ _ Free food!” _

“Not free, since Tenjin will be paying.” 

“Free to me!”

She laughed again as Yukine shook his head and called Yato a freeloader. Before Yato could produce a comeback, however, they reached the bottom of the stairs and he became too distracted, pulling Hiyori even more quickly towards the festival now that he didn’t have to negotiate the incline. 

“Come on! Come  _ on _ !”

People stopped to stare at their strange procession as they spanned the distance between the bottom of the stairs and the main street of the village. Whispers followed them as people stopped and asked their neighbors if that was really him- the Dragon Warrior. Yato ignored them, it was his first ever festival and he wasn’t going to let anybody ruin it, not even the people who didn’t bother to lower their voices to say that he didn’t look like much. 

When the decorated street came into sight Yato halted in his tracks, spellbound, so suddenly that Hiyori ran straight into him and the pair nearly toppled over. 

“What? What is it?”

“It’s beautiful.” Hiyori smiled at Yato’s awed expression then turned her eyes to the scene in front of them, imagining what it must be like to see it for the first time. 

Ribbons and streamers were hung side by side with multicolored paper lanterns that cast a soft otherworldly glow on the bustling street below, lighting the falling dark in such a way that even the shadows seemed more inviting. 

“You’re right, it is beautiful, but that’s not half the fun. Let’s go and play some games.” 

“Yeah!” 

Yato grabbed Yukine and Hiyori by the hand and pulled them towards the nearest stall to see what there was to see, chattering excitedly about everything.

* * *

Bishamon stopped by a stall selling fine scarves and lifted one to her chest observing herself in the mirror provided. 

“It’s not your color,” Kazuma told her, tugging the scarf gently from her fingers and replacing it with a royal purple one. “This one brings out your eyes.” Unconvinced, she took it and held it up to see. 

“Master Mantis is right,” the attendant weighed in, “you have lovely eyes, you should accentuate them.” Bishamon smiled at the flattery, shaking her head. 

“Where would I even wear it?”

“Around your neck,” Kazuma said, unfolding the scarf and looping it around her neck. 

“You’re in a good mood, you never joke,” she said. 

“I joke all the time, just not when I’m worried you’ll do something reckless.” 

“So never.” 

Kazuma smiled softly and tucked the scarf more carefully around her neck.

“You should get it, we  _ do  _ host dignitaries at the Jade Palace sometimes, and you know how they love having formal dinners with us,” Kazuma persuaded, attempting reason when flattery failed him. 

“Oh god,” she said suddenly, looking faintly green, “you just made me realize we’re eventually going to have to have one of those dinners with Yato.” 

Kazuma looked aghast at the thought. “All the more reason to get the scarf, because the rest of us will have to make up for his… well, everything.” 

“Fair,” she said, hesitating for only a beat more. “Alright, I’ll get it. But only because I see the way you’re looking at me right now… and also the Yato thing that was a really good point.” Kazuma laughed. 

The shopkeeper smiled and accepted the payment as the two of them twined fingers and walked away. They didn’t make it very far before Kazuma tugged the laughing Bishamon gently into the relative privacy of a shadowy corner. 

“You look beautiful, Viina. You always do, no matter what you’re wearing.” 

“Thank you, Kazuma. You look very handsome too, you should dress up more often.” 

“Viina, are you asking me to go out on more dates with you? Because the only places we normally go to together are battlefields,” Kazuma said, grinning.

“That would be nice, the dates that is, not the battlefields.” Bishamon stood on her toes to kiss Kazuma and felt him smile against her lips.

* * *

“The festival games are all rigged,” Yukine said. 

“Maybe you’re just bad at them!” Yato shot back, unnecessarily defensive as he stepped forward to toss rings at glass bottles. 

“Some things we have to learn for ourselves, Yukine,” Hiyori said gently, handing over the copper that the stall attendant required. 

Yato eyed the bottles carefully before tossing the ring in the air a few times to get the feel of its weight.

“You’re just making stuff up now,” Yukine said, standing several feet away, arms crossed and looking skeptical. 

“You’ll see, Yukine!” 

Yato did a few more experimental tosses before throwing his first ring. It landed perfectly on the neck of a bottle and a few of the spectators cheered while Yato shot Yukine a smug look. 

“Beginners luck.” 

Yato turned back to the game, focusing with all his might as he carefully tossed the rest of his allotted rings, one by one landing them all squarely on the neck of a bottle. When the final ring found its home Yato whooped loudly and jumped in the air, tossing both his hands in the air. He regretted this immediately, yelping as his many wounds made themselves known. The stunned game attendant handed over the large stuffed panda that Yato chose as his prize and he presented it proudly to Yukine. 

“Here, I won this for you! Maybe now you’ll stop being such a sourpuss and have fun with me and Hiyori!” Hiyori and Yukine both still wore looks of shock as Yukine accepted the panda. 

“Uh, sure.” 

“Yato, how did you  _ do _ that?” Hiyori asked, still not quite sure she believed what she had just seen. Yato shrugged. 

“Just did.” 

Yukine and Hiyori exchanged incredulous looks before they both broke into broad grins. 

“This is going to be the best festival ever,” Yukine said. 

Yato, Yukine, and Hiyori proceeded to go from stall to stall, winning games, competing with each other, and making a huge fuss. Yukine cheered and jeered while Yato played, Yato shouted compliments at Hiyori while she tried to focus, and the two of them together embarrassed Yukine by calling out overzealous encouragement while he played. After about two hours they had accumulated several stuffed animals, a few paper trinkets, and a goldfish that Yato had insisted on. 

“I’ve never had a pet before!”

Yato’s enthusiasm as a first-time festival-goer was catching, dragging the other two into his shenanigans until they had finally played all the games and Yato and Hiyori started perusing the stalls peddling merchandise and Yukine went off in search of a better time with kids his own age. 

“Play carefully!” Yato called after him, grinning when Yukine threw up his middle finger in response. He turned merrily to Hiyori and the jeweled hair comb that she was trying on. 

“I love it! You look so beautiful!” He exclaimed.

“You’ve said that about every single one!”

“Because everything looks good on you, Hiyori!” 

She laughed. “We only stopped here because  _ you’re _ attracted to shiny things, not me! Why don’t  _ you  _ try one on?” 

“Great idea, I should have thought of it myself!”

Yato plucked a jeweled hair comb from the display and slid it into his hair. 

“So? What do you think? Am I pretty?”

“The prettiest,” Yato struck a silly pose and Hiyori giggled loudly, clapping a hand to her mouth to quiet the sound. 

“It doesn’t really suit you,” the shopkeeper snapped, annoyed at the two of them for driving away her other customer with their antics. 

Yato and Hiyori replaced the combs and hurried away together, giggling. Once there were several stalls in between them and the comb merchant Yato grabbed Hiyori by the waist and pulled her into an alleyway beyond the reach of the lantern light. The cool stone walls muffled the sounds of the festival, leaving Yato and Hiyori alone together in their own little world. 

“Yato, what are you doing?” 

In response, he slid his hands down to her hips and pulled her close, covering her mouth with his. She made a soft sound of surprise before tangling her fingers in his hair and pulling him closer. 

“Sorry,” Yato hummed when they separated, “I didn’t want to do that in front of Yukine so I had to wait until he got bored with us to drag you off to somewhere more private.” 

“I don’t mind, it was worth the wait,” she whispered, so close her lips brushed his with every syllable. 

“I’m glad,” he sighed, leaning his forehead against hers. “I thought you were going to hate me after the blood moon, and again after you found out about my past…” his voice trailed away. 

Hiyori peered through the half-light at his creased forehead, his eyes closed tightly against the past. She reached up and traced his eyebrows with her thumbs, taking in the tortured set of his jaw and felt his hand slip into her hair. He leaned heavily into her and she smiled, nuzzling his neck. 

“God, Hiyori, you drive me crazy.”

“Good, consider it payback for dealing with you when you were pretending you couldn’t fight.”

“Fair enough.”

* * *

Bishamon and Kazuma were sitting across from one another in the outdoor seating of a popular local cafe, holding hands. Bishamon wore the new purple scarf that Kazuma had loved so much and he was wearing a cheap paper crown that she had won in a card game. Her eyes strayed to it again, lips splitting in an amused smile. He reached up to remove it and she shook her head. 

“Do it and die, Mantis. The crown stays.” 

“I feel ridiculous.”

“Good, you’re too uptight, you can afford to relax once in a while.” He sighed, his smile softening. 

“Alright, fine.” 

The smile that she gave him had Kazuma melting in his shoes. He was little more than putty by the time the waiter took their orders. Once that was done, they talked about inconsequential and light-hearted things, glad for the escape from the oppressiveness of the cloud that loomed over the Jade Palace. 

“I’m glad that it’s a clear night, we can see all the stars,” Bishamon said. Kazuma lifted his eyes to follow the speckles of light traveling across the great blue nothing. 

“I’ve been looking forward to tonight too, though maybe not as much as Yato. It’s been a while since we just had time to spend together outside the palace.”

Bishamon nodded. “We really should take a vacation sometime,” she said, imagining all the places they might go together.

“With Yato around, there are more hands on deck, so it shouldn’t be so hard to get away.” 

“So, he  _ is  _ good for something after all.”

Kazuma chuckled and released her hand as their waiter brought their food and told them to enjoy their meal. 

While they tucked in Kofuku and Daikoku strolled leisurely by the restaurant, as oblivious to the younger pair as they were to them. 

“Come on, why don’t you let me win you a prize?” Daikoku asked. 

Kofuku giggled. “Oh alright, that would be wonderful, and then we could find someplace more private,” she wiggled her eyebrows at him, and he grinned. 

“Whatever you say.”

* * *

Yukine sat behind the counter of the flower booth, the panda that Yato had won for him on the ground between his feet as he passed Suzuha whatever flower he asked for. 

“I don’t know how you make them into such nice crowns,” Yukine said as a customer departed. 

“It’s a skill,” Suzuha bragged, flexing imaginary muscles. “You fight and I grow things and turn them into pretty headpieces.” Yukine shook his head. “And you know what else? That pretty mop of blonde hair of yours would look  _ so cute _ with a flower crown.” 

“Uh,” Yukine replied, reddening, shifting slightly away under Suzuha’s gaze. “I don’t know about that.” 

“Oh, come on, your beautiful hair would be  _ perfect _ for drawing in customers! I’ll wear one too!”

Suzuha put his hands on Yukine’s shoulders and spun him around, observing his messy blonde hair critically before pulling out a seemingly random assortment of flowers and deftly weaving them into a crown. Despite Yukine’s feeble protests, Suzuha placed the crown securely on Yukine’s head and smiled. 

“Suzuha, the others will make fun of me!” He whined. 

“What for? You look adorable!” 

Yukine’s face grew hot and he had to look away. Luckily, another customer approached as if summoned by Yukine’s crown, and Suzuha’s attention was redirected to them. 

“They won’t make fun of you if I make one for myself so we’re matching,” Suzuha said once the customer was gone. 

Yukine wasn’t quite sure that logic tracked, but he didn’t protest any further, he was too distracted by how quickly Suzuha made his own flower crown and how  _ cute  _ it looked on him. 

“What do you think?” He asked, holding his hands up to frame his face. 

“I, uh, it’s really nice.” 

“Perfect,” Suzuha grinned.

* * *

“We should get a good seat for the fire flowers,” Yato suggested. 

“They’re in the sky, Yato, we’ll be able to see them from anywhere.” 

“But watching them from  _ just  _ anywhere isn’t good enough.” 

“So, where do you want to watch from, then?” Yato grinned and pointed to the roof of the tallest building in the village. 

“You’re kidding, you want to climb onto the headman’s roof?” 

“Why not? We’re two able-bodied kung fu masters. No one will know. It’ll be our little secret, something special for our first date.”

He clasped both her hands in his and leaned close, eyes glowing with adoration and just a hint of mischief in the low light and Hiyori heard herself agreeing. At her ascent, Yato whisked her away, slipping into the shadows and creeping deeper into the alleyway. Once in the dark Yato knelt and offered his hand as a foothold for her. She accepted and he vaulted her straight up, watching as she flipped onto the roof above him and disappeared. Yato followed, landing like a cat by her side. He straightened, grinning. 

“Wanna race?” Hiyori asked, “first one there wins, and if you get spotted, you’re disqualified.”

“Deal.” 

Hiyori disappeared as soon as the word left his mouth and he was left scrambling to catch up. 

_ How did she do that? _

Yato slunk through the shadows, pressing close to the roof and keeping his eyes peeled for where exactly Hiyori had gotten off too. He was reminded of the hundreds of times he’d done this exact thing with Rabo, only with a much darker end in mind. Shaking his head, Yato reminded himself that he shouldn’t be thinking about that right now, not when he was having such a nice time with Hiyori  _ and  _ he was losing their race. 

Even so, his mind conjured a prowling shadow on the roof across the street, moonlight reflecting off the pale hair. The figure crept and crawled in an intimately familiar was. Yato jerked his head to the right, almost believing for a second that the figure was real, but it vanished. 

“Don’t be silly, Yato,” he said quietly. “He can’t be here yet.” He leaped onto the next rooftop, keeping his eyes determinedly forward. 

Yato gulped and continued on his mission to beat Hiyori to the headman’s roof, taking a few, slightly riskier, shortcuts, keeping his eye out for stargazers even though a lifetime of creeping across rooftops told him that all eyes would be on the festivities below. 

Hiyori was waiting for him on the headman’s roof, looking smug. She didn’t notice his distress until he enveloped her in his arms and buried his face in her neck without a word. 

“Is-is something the matter?” 

“Not exactly- I don’t know. I wasn’t counting on this feeling so familiar.”

“Familiar?”

“Yeah, um, don’t worry about it, let’s just find a place to sit.” There was a beat of silence before Hiyori decided not to press the matter. 

They found a place nestled between two gables, blanketed in soft shadows with a perfect view of the sky. They laid together on their backs, wrapped in each other’s arms, and Yato found himself retreating into her warmth. 

“Tell me a story,” he said. 

“What kind of story?” 

“One about you.”

Hiyori giggled. 

“Hmm, what to tell. Oh, I know! Alright, when my brother and I were growing up our village had this yearly festival, a lot like this one, and we went as a family every year.”

“That sounds nice,” Yato murmured, tucking his nose into her hair. 

“The earliest one I can remember I must have been about four, and for whatever reason, my brother and I were gung-ho about a goldfish.”

“Because goldfish are amazing.”

“Our parents weren’t convinced that we were responsible enough to take care of one, but we begged and begged and begged all year until they finally agreed to let us keep a fish if we won one. So of course, as soon as we were dressed and out the door, we were racing down the street in the direction of fish. We must have been trying for half an hour before Masaomi finally got lucky and caught one. It probably would have been cheaper for our parents just to buy one.” 

“What did you name it?”

“Tsuki, because it was white. We actually managed to keep it alive too. It still lives in the pond behind my parent’s house.” Yato smiled, but something about the story had caught his attention.

“I didn’t know you had a brother.”

Hiyori hesitated, and the sudden tension in her shoulders made Yato feel like maybe he’d said something he shouldn’t have. He should have known better, he of all people knew about complicated family situations. 

“When I was young he had a huge falling out with my parents and left home. I haven’t seen him since, although he did send me a letter when I was named one of the Striking Six.”

There was a resigned sort of sorrow in Hiyori’s words that made Yato’s chest ache in sympathy. He remained silent, pulling her closer. 

Yato saw movement in the corner of his eye and jumped, sitting up so fast Hiyori’s head hit the shingles and she cried out in shock, but when he turned to look, he only saw a kite. He sagged in relief. 

“Yato, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing, I- I thought I saw something.”

“What?” 

Yato hesitated, wondering if he should tell her and risk ruining the lighthearted and perfect night they’d had together, but he’d had enough of keeping secrets for now. 

“...Rabo. Being up here on the roof just reminded me of old times, that’s all. I thought he had come to get me already.” Hiyori gave him a sympathetic look. 

“Do you want to get down?”

“No, I like it up here with you, I’m just a little on edge is all. Let’s relax, the show will be starting soon.” 

He reclined carefully onto his still sore back and Hiyori snuggled closer to him. He sighed and tried to ignore the guilt looming over him.

* * *

The two boys stood together, crowd pressing in on all sides as the fire flowers exploded overhead. Yukine couldn’t think about how Yato was probably losing his entire goddamn mind over the display because of how tightly he was being pressed against Suzuha. Everyone around them was a head and shoulders taller than them, so somehow despite their close quarters it still felt like they were alone. 

In their little pocket of solitude, the rumble of the crowd combined with the booms of the fire flowers created the ambiance to which Yukine was sneaking glances at Suzuha. His face was lit with every explosion, smiling beneath his flower crown.  _ Cute _ , Yukine thought. Suddenly Suzuha’s fingers wrapped around Yukine’s and he jumped, turning his gaze decidedly to the sky as Suzuha edged closer. 

Suzuha  _ had  _ to be able to hear his heart pounding, it was louder even than the fire flowers. Yukine dared a glance to his side and was surprised to find Suzuha’s gaze on him, eyes lit with something hopeful. Yukine was filled with that same emotion as he watched Suzuha bite his lip. Catching his breath, Yukine began to lean closer and was immensely relieved when Suzuha did the same. They met in the middle, eyes closed, and were suddenly sharing the first kiss of Yukine’s life underneath a sky glowing with stars and colorful blazes of light.


	11. 10- Until the End

In the week that followed the festival Yukine found himself sneaking away and spending more and more time in the gardens. Well, he wasn’t  _ sneaking _ per se, as a master, his time was his own, especially since Tenjin had gone to the Palace of the Rising Sun to research Yato’s strange condition. He was perfectly within his rights to spend as much time as he wanted in the gardens, but he also wasn’t telling anyone about his garden visits, or the reason for them, so he felt like he was sneaking. 

He had spent several sunlit afternoons helping Suzuha do his chores, laughing and blushing and being in the way, more so than he was helping, but Suzuha didn’t seem to mind. They had already shared a few more tentative kisses while tucked away from prying eyes, not that Yukine was embarrassed, he just didn’t want to hear Yato’s input on the matter; that man’s love life was enough of a mess without him trying to meddle in Yukine’s. And Yukine was fairly certain Yato would be a meddler. 

“Shouldn’t you be training with the Dragon Warrior?” Suzuha asked, hand lingering on Yukine’s as he passed the gardening shears. 

“Nah, he’s with the rest today.”  _ Like he needs any extra training _ , Yukine thought. 

“Good, that means I get to spend more time with you.” 

Yukine’s face heated up and he turned back to the rose bush he was supposed to be helping prune. Suzuha chuckled and bumped his shoulder against Yukine’s. Yukine smiled and bumped Suzuha back, pulling the corner of his lip into his mouth. 

“Don’t do that,” Suzuha reprimanded, reaching up and tugging his lip lightly from between his teeth. Yukine flushed fiercely under the spot of dirt the worn material of the gardening gloves left on his skin.

* * *

_ Thwack.  _

Yato’s back slammed into the mat for the hundredth time that day, jarring his bones. His assortment of still-healing injuries screamed in protest. He tried to scramble back to his feet, but Kazuma kicked him in the side, admittedly not very hard, but Yato cried out in pain, collapsing back onto his forearms. 

“Come  _ on, _ Yato, focus!” Kazuma crouched down to peer into his face. “Where are you at? You’re barely putting up a fight.” 

Yato let out a ragged breath and glared up at Kazuma through his bangs, ponytail long since fallen. 

It had been the same all week. Ever since he’d thought he had seen Rabo on the roof the reality of his situation had gotten much harder to ignore. He could feel the impending arrival like a brewing storm aching in his fucked-up wrist. He’d been so shaken that he’d started losing his train of thought in the middle of sentences and having to be brought back to reality. There were just so many things that could happen when Rabo and Nora came calling, and the options were all terrible. It was all starting to overwhelm Yato. It was too much. 

It was all too much. 

Yato climbed to his feet, head full of mud, trying desperately to reconnect the fraying threads of his sanity so he could focus on this fight. He tapped his foot twice, paused for a moment, then tapped twice again. 

“And enough of the constant tapping! You’re driving everyone crazy!” Kazuma pointed the tip of his knife at Yato’s foot, which was paused in midair, preparing to tap again. Yato gritted his teeth and lowered his toes gently to the ground.  _ Honestly _ , he’d thought he’d kicked that habit years ago. 

“Sorry,” he muttered, tugging on his earlobe. 

“How are you supposed to fight the Sorcerer if you can’t even stay on your feet?” 

Yato growled, Kazuma  _ had  _ to know that it wasn’t his father he was worried about. 

Hiyori gave the pair a dissatisfied look and got to her feet. “Come on, you and I are going for a stroll in the gardens.” 

“You’ve got class in fifteen minutes,” Kazuma reminded her. Hiyori gave him a stern look and he caved. 

“Go on then,” Kazuma said, defeated. “It’s not like we’re getting anything done here.” 

Yato focused on Hiyori and her comforting smile, completely missing the pitying look Kazuma gave him.

* * *

“You know you’re allowed to be nervous to see them again, you don’t have to try to hide it,” Hiyori said once they were out of earshot. 

Yato deflated, hunching over and curling his arms around his stomach. 

“I’m sorry. I know I’ve been…” Yato sighed. “It’s just that… they don’t know yet. I can’t stop thinking about how they’re going to react. They must be thinking that this is a normal retrieval.” 

“It’s normal to be worried about their reactions, they’re your family too.”

“I can’t stop thinking that he’s clueless. He has no idea- no idea that-” 

“That you’ve decided to kill him, and that you’ve decided that it has to be you and no one else?”

Yato flinched, her bluntness forcing out the sob he’d been trying to corral. He didn’t ask how she’d known. 

“He’ll be blindsided.” 

“Will he?”

“What do you mean?” 

“You’ve asked him to come with you before, haven’t you? You told me yourself that he was the one you talked too when you couldn’t bear being in that compound for another second. You run away all the time, and you’ve tried to get him to come with you. Don’t you think he knew, even before you did, that you would one day leave for good?” 

Yato hesitated, he hadn’t considered that. 

“But-it’s always the same-”

“I don’t know much about him, but I know that he isn’t a fool, right?” Yato nodded. “He’s probably prepared for this outcome every time he comes to get you. And under the circumstances, with you joining us… well, he’s a smart man.” 

Rabo  _ was  _ smart, and there was no one else who knew Yato as well as Rabo did. Yato thought back to the way Rabo had behaved all the other times he’d been forced to drag him back home. The careful way Rabo had handled him.  _ I hate it here, _ Yato said, so many times.  _ I know _ , Rabo replied. Hiyori was right, Rabo knew Yato better than Yato knew himself, it seemed so obvious now that Rabo had to have known this would happen eventually. The revelation lifted enough of the oppressive weight for Yato to see something else that had been bothering him. 

“But what if… what if he can tell? What if he sees us and realizes that we’re…?” 

“Even if he  _ somehow _ figures it out without you telling him, you’ve had relationships while you were away before.”

“I have, but you’re different.”  _ More permanent.  _

Hiyori didn’t allow herself to think about that comment or what it could mean, Yato was in the middle of a crisis. 

“I don’t think he’ll be able to figure it out unless you tell him,” Hiyori said softly. 

“It’s just all so messed up.” 

“It would help to talk about it, Yato. You haven’t even said his name in days. You change the subject every time the Gods of Calamity come up and you’ve been a million miles away all week. You’re not going to be able to screw your head on straight until you let some of what you’ve bottled up out.” 

There was a long silence. 

“I  _ don’t  _ want to kill him, but I  _ can’t _ let someone else do it, that would be an even worse betrayal than killing him. It  _ has _ to be me because he would never forgive me for chickening out and let someone else do it but that doesn’t change the fact that I still want him  _ here _ . I have no idea how that would even work because I’m still in love with him but I’m falling in love with you, but I still  _ want  _ it. Something funny happens and I look for him, or I’m angry and I want to complain to him, or I get scared and want him to tell me that it’s all going to be alright. I just  _ miss  _ him so much and I don’t want to be missing him for the rest of my life. I  _ need  _ him, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do when he’s  _ gone. _ ”

Once Yato got started talking he found himself unable to stop until the words tumbled out of his mouth like a rockslide and he was gasping for air, not sure when the tears had started to fall. Hiyori hovered just outside of his personal space, waiting for his permission to breach it, looking concerned. 

“I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you. I don’t know what to say to make you feel better, there probably isn’t anything. I do know one thing, though. You’re not a God of Calamity anymore. You can’t go back now like nothing has happened, it would kill you from the inside out, and I know Rabo wouldn’t want that for you. As for your relationship… sometimes things just don’t work out. Not because you stopped loving each other, but because the paths that you want to take in life are irreconcilable. Living a life that makes you miserable to be with someone is no basis or a happy relationship.” 

“You’re right. It’s just… hard to let go.” 

“I know, but don’t torture yourself if you can help it. There are things that are out of your control, but you don’t have to go through them alone.” 

“Thanks, Hiyori.” Another small bit of weight lifted from his chest and he found it a little easier to breathe. The two started walking again as Yato swiped at his wet cheeks. “When I thought I saw Rabo at the festival I guess it shattered this illusion of safety that I’d built up around this place, and I realized what I would have to do.” 

“I’m glad you told me.” 

“Sorry for freaking out so much lately, I’ll try to calm down.” 

“You don’t have to apologize but do try that calming down thing. You  _ can  _ always talk to me if you feel like you need to.” 

Yato swallowed and nodded. He reached out and squeezed her hand, offering a rather sad half-smile. Hiyori smiled back, returning the pressure. 

“My class is starting in like two minutes,” she said apologetically. 

“It’s fine. I’ll be alright. You were right, I feel better after talking.” 

Hiyori flashed him another reassuring smile before dashing away. Yato watched her go, long ponytail streaking out behind her as she spanned the distance gracefully. He turned to stroll a bit on his own, thinking maybe a nap under the willow might help this feeling that the world was ending fade. 

Yato turned the corner and stopped short. His eyes landed on Yukine, arms wrapped around the gardener boy, foreheads touching. The boy said something that Yato couldn’t hear and Yukine turned away, a shy smile spreading across his face. Yato was reminded of the warmth he’d felt the first time Rabo had kissed him and he smiled, ducking back out of sight, not wanting to spy on their private moment. 

Yato smiled to himself. It was good to remember that just because he felt that his world was ending didn’t mean that it actually was. Just as Yato was bracing to lose his first love, Yukine was finding his. Somehow the knowledge of Yukine’s budding happiness soothed the despair that Yato had been drowning in even more. There was always love in the world, if he knew where to look. 

With that thought, Yato decided to go sit in on Hiyori’s class and leave Yukine to his secret garden rendezvous.

* * *

Hiyori’s class was held in the front courtyard of the Jade Palace. It was the only space big enough to accommodate all the children, and it was away from the dangerous training equipment that the masters used. Win-win. The students stood facing the gate, so when Yato slipped around the corner of the building he was noticed only by Hiyori, who smiled brightly at him before turning her attention back to the class. 

Her class was made up of five to six-year-olds, all of whom were overly excited to be there. Hiyori smiled as she answered questions and offered encouragement. The children practiced the same moves over and over again, old enough to have lost most of their toddler clumsiness but not quite old enough to have obtained anything close to grace yet. Hiyori seemed satisfied with their progress and dismissed them after the hour. 

After dismissal, they flocked to her, surrounding her on all sides and vying loudly for her attention. She was careful to acknowledge and smile at all of them in turn before sending them on their way so no one would feel left out. Once the last of them finally cleared out she came and sat next to Yato. 

“You look like you’re feeling a lot better.” 

“It’s hard not to be happy when I’m around you.”

Hiyori laughed, shaking her head. “What actually cheered you up? You were still pretty upset when I left you.” 

“It’s not really worth talking about.”  _ Not my secret to tell. _

“Alright, well, whatever it is I’m glad you’re feeling better. I have a free hour now.” 

“Let’s hang out then,” he said, standing and offering his hand. She took it and pulled herself to her feet, their hands remaining intertwined while they walked across the grounds. 

Yato peered subtly around the corner before they strode together into the back gardens, just in case Yukine and his boyfriend hadn’t moved on yet. Thankfully in the hour that Yato had been watching Hiyori, they had disappeared. Yato pulled her wordlessly through the gardens into the bamboo thicket. They walked past the hole he’d made when Bishamon had thrown him into it and walked until they reached the clearing. Hiyori noticed the damage to the trunk of the tree and pulled him away from him to investigate it. 

“What happened here?” 

“That’s where Kazuma pinned me to the tree and forced me to tell him I was God of Calamity- well, he didn’t need much force, I was cracking anyway. He  _ did  _ pin me there by throwing knives from all the way over there,” Yato pointed to where Kazuma had been, “it was pretty hot.” 

“Why’d you bring me here?” 

“It’s my favorite place in the palace.”

Yato crossed his legs and sat in the middle of the clearing, looking up at the patch of blue sky above them. 

“Why?” She asked, sitting down beside him. 

“It’s secluded and peaceful, I like the sounds of the creek and of the bamboo in the wind.”

“It is peaceful, I used to come here to meditate.” 

“It’s the place I go in my mind when Kazuma tries to get in.” 

“Really?” 

“He told me to pick someplace I felt safe, and I just feel so at peace here. The only other thing that came close is when I’d sit on the porch at night at Father’s compound.” 

“Yeah?”

“I’d wake up in the middle of the night and just sit on the porch. I’d feel so peaceful there, with Rabo asleep behind me and the world so quiet, I’d just sit and watch the stars for hours. Then I’d turn around and Rabo would be awake and watching me, and I’d feel like we were the only people in the world. It was just me, him, and the moon.” 

“Thank you for telling me, Yato. It was about time you told  _ me  _ a story.”

Yato laughed. “I guess it was.” He leaned forward and kissed Hiyori on the cheek. 

Safe.

* * *

In his scrawny little body, Yato possessed enough restraint to not go spilling Yukine’s secret to the others, but not nearly enough to resist prying when they were alone. He’d sworn to protect Yukine no matter what, and that included protection from broken hearts, right? That’s what Yato told himself when he tracked Yukine down with the full intention of meddling, anyway. 

“So, the gardener, the one that’s your age, what’s his name again?”

If Yato hadn’t already known, the shade of red that consumed Yukine’s entire face would have told him everything. Still, he pretended not to notice as he blocked Yukine’s incoming strike. Just for the hell of it, he’d asked Yukine to help him train with a bo staff. It had worked perfectly as an excuse to get him alone. 

“Keep the staff parallel to the ground, you’ll hurt your shoulders if you don’t,” Yukine instructed huffily, nudging Yato into place. 

“Got it, and the gardener?”

“Suzuha.” 

“Do you like him?”

“W-what?”

“Like, is he nice?” Yato amended, pretending to be confused by Yukine’s reaction. In his mind, he heard Hiyori telling him to not tease Yukine, but he ignored her. 

“Oh yeah, he’s really nice.” 

“I noticed you helping him earlier, do you like flowers?” 

“Y-you saw that?” 

“Yeah. I’ve never had much of a green thumb myself. Rabo and I always killed everything.”  _ Wait _ . “That didn’t come out right.”

Yukine nodded warily. “Riiight. Well, sometimes he just needs some help, so I help him.” 

“That’s very sweet of you. It looked like maybe there was something in his eye and you were trying to help him find it.” Yukine turned beet red, but this time Yato suspected it was anger and not embarrassment. “You know if you ever need relationship advice-” 

Yato’s back hit the mat hard, knocking the breath out of him. Yukine stood above him, face flaming. 

“Like I would want you- I don’t even need- what the hell do you know? Just shut up, Yato!”

“Alright, calm down! I was just teasing! I won’t tell the others about your boyfri-” Yato’s eyes widened and he rolled out of the way of Yukine’s attack. His bo staff hit the ground where Yato’s head had been so hard Yato thought it may have collapsed his skull. 

“I was just saying your secret is safe with me!”

“It’s not your business! Who even asked you anyway?” 

“You  _ could _ if you wanted! I happen to know a thing or two about workplace romances!”

“I  _ don’t _ want to know about your creepy murderer boyfriend or your creepy murderer relationship! You guys weren’t even steady, you were  _ on again off again _ !” Yato, thoroughly eviscerated, decided to change tactics. 

“Okay, but all couples have problems! I know about  _ that _ !”

“We-we’re not- it’s not like we’re dating!” Yato smiled. 

“Ahh, it’s been a while for me on that one, but I  _ do  _ remember what it’s like. A bit. Rabo and I were teenage sweethearts, remember?”

“Ugh, don’t say that it’s so creepy.” 

Yato’s grin widened evilly. “What, you don’t like it when I say,  _ sweethearts _ ?”

“UGH! Stop! That’s so embarrassing!”

“Why don’t we ask your  _ sweetheart _ how he feels about it?” Yukine swung for his head and Yato scrambled back. “Hey, hey, hey, hey now! Let’s not do anything hasty!”

“I’m going to kill you, Yato! You’re so annoying!”

“Oh, come on! I’m just trying to help you! Be nicer!”

“Be less of a bum!”

“It’s bad manners to make fun of the less fortunate!” Yato snapped, ducking around a pillar and darting across the room with Yukine hot on his trail. 

“I wasn’t making fun of you for being homeless, I was making fun of you for being  _ useless _ .” 

“I am  _ not _ !”

“Why does your father even want you back when you don’t  _ do  _ anything?”

“That’s so mean!”

“Deal with it!”

Yato sprinted around a few training dummies, bo staff long since forgotten. “Stop trying to kill me! I won’t talk about Suzuha anymore!”

“I’ll make sure of that!”

_ Holy shit this kid is scary! _ “I’m sorry, alright! I’ll leave you two alone! I won’t do it again, I'll mind my business!”

Yukine halted and Yato looked over his shoulder at him then ran into a pole. He fell backward and thudded to the ground unimpressively. 

“Honestly,” Yukine sighed, standing at Yato’s head and looking exasperated while Yato rubbed his sore forehead. “How are you the Dragon Warrior?”

“Well, I’m not this clumsy when I’m fighting someone who’s a real threat,” Yato snapped, ending his own life. 

Yukine raised his staff for the kill and Yato scrambled backward, getting to his feet, and sprinting through the open door and into the hall. He slipped on the rug and slammed into the wall without slowing down, startling Bishamon and Kazuma who were on their way into the dojo. A knife embedded in the wall right next to Yato’s head and he squealed, sprinting down the hall and disappearing around the corner. A few seconds passed and he peered back around suspiciously. 

“What the hell?” Kazuma asked, looking between Yato and Yukine, who was pretending to have  _ not  _ just thrown a knife at Yato. 

“Are you and Yato fighting?” Bishamon asked. 

“Yukine is trying to kill me!”

“Um, don’t?” Kazuma said, shaking his head and entering the training room. 

“That’s all you’re going to do? Avenge me!”

“You’re grown, avenge yourself.” 

Yato eased into the room, unavenged and on edge, with his hands raised in surrender. He cautiously approached Yukine and they began training again, Bishamon and Kazuma’s presence acting as a sufficient buffer. No one killed anyone.

* * *

Yato tapped his foot twice, debating on whether or not this was a good idea. He was  _ pretty  _ sure he was allowed to leave. Technically he wasn’t a prisoner here anymore, so it made more sense for him to be allowed to leave for him to  _ not  _ be allowed to leave. Still, he hadn’t been directly told he could leave, so he was nervous. 

This anxiety was just left over from all the years he spent not being allowed to leave Father’s compound combined with his ex-prisoner status here. There’s no reason they would stop him from leaving, right? Because everyone knew he would come back now so why wouldn’t they let him go?

Yato hadn’t left the Jade Palace on his own yet, and with everything going on inside his head he could certainly use a break from being in this world of violence and just pretend that he was a normal guy again. He could  _ ask  _ to leave, but that would be defeating the purpose of it. If he was truly free, then he wouldn’t have to ask. He was a grown-up. 

But what if they didn’t trust him?

Yato huffed. This was ridiculous. He was a grown man. A God of Calamity. The Dragon Warrior. He could do what he wanted. 

His mouth tasted of iron. 

_ Dammit, Yato, quit being a wimp. _

Deciding that if he were going to do it, he would do it with confidence, he threw his chin up and strode purposefully towards the gates. Kazuma and Bishamon were teaching a class of ten-year-olds in the outdoor training area and he gulped, not letting his stride falter. Right as he passed through the gate Kazuma looked up and noticed him. 

“Oh, Yato!”

Yato froze, turning slowly on numb legs but keeping his face looking bored. 

“Yeah?”

“I requested a book from the library if you’re going out can you pick it up for me?”

“Oh. Yeah, sure,” Yato replied. 

“Thanks!” Kazuma turned back to his class and Yato continued down the stairs, heart-pounding, and pretending that his hands weren’t still shaking. 

_ Well, that was anticlimactic,  _ Yato thought, half annoyed and half relieved.

* * *

Ten hundred million years later, Yato reached the end of the ridiculously long staircase and had to sit briefly to catch his breath, rubbing his throbbing ankle. 

“Honestly, what’s even the point of that many stairs? Just build the temple in the valley like a normal person,” he muttered. 

Yato got back to his feet, now with a slight limp, and ducked through the back streets and alleys until he stood in front of the abandoned mill. His skin prickled eerily, sensing an emptiness that he had already known would be there. Still, he ducked inside to visually confirm, eyes landing heavily on the spot where Gramps used to lay. Yato sighed. The makeshift hearth was cold, but not unused. Clearly, people still lived here. He was just contemplating sitting down and waiting for someone to come back when a throat cleared behind him and he spun on the spot, wincing apologetically when he met Kiki’s eyes. 

“Yato,” she said, sounding surprised. She looked past him to the empty place where Gramps once laid. “We spread his ashes in the river.”

Yato nodded solemnly. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there, this is the first time they’ve actually let me leave by myself, my time there isn’t really my own,” It wasn’t a lie, which is probably why she nods without challenging the story. 

“I understand, we thought that might be the case. You weren’t with us for very long anyway.” It hadn’t been meant as an insult, but Yato winced anyway. “Sorry.” 

“No, you’re right. I’m not in many places for very long. Still, I appreciate what you all did for me.” 

“Enough to come to visit on what’s apparently your first free day,” she said brightly, gesturing for Yato to sit down. He did, kneeling at the hearth and starting the fire while Kiki unpacked her bag. 

“Sorry, if I’d been thinking I would have brought supplies, food, soap, lightweight valuables,” he joked. Well, half-joked. They wouldn’t notice a few missing items here and there. Probably. 

“Don’t worry about it Yato, the care package you sent was more than enough.” 

“Care package?” Kiki looked up from what she was doing and saw the surprise on his face. 

“You didn’t know?” Yato shook his head, still confused. “Not long after the community outreach program, we got a package from the Jade Palace full of clothes, soap, and food. We assumed you sent it.” 

Yato shook his head again, eyes burning. “It must have been the others, they never mentioned…” he pressed his lips in between his teeth and looked at the ground. 

“They must care about you a lot.” Yato nodded, not trusting himself to speak for several minutes. “So how long are you staying? The others will be back this afternoon.” 

“I don’t know, I thought I’d just look around the shops, not that I have any money, but they’ll actually let me in the door now and I thought I’d see what I’ve been missing.” Kiki snorted. 

“You don’t think they’ll let you charge fabric purchases to the Jade Palace?” Yato laughed. 

“Well they should, I’m the only one that’s cooked ever since I got there.”

“See, they’re getting their money’s worth out of you.”

“I guess so. What about you guys? How are all of you?” 

“Doing alright, Ayame’s been talking about fixing up the mill again,” Yato raised his eyebrows in surprise, looking around the ruined room. “Oh yeah, you haven’t been around long enough to know, but once a year or so Ayame gets it in her head that she’s going to start working odd jobs, then start having the Mill put right and we’ll have a solid living.” 

Yato looked around, trying to gauge how much of the damage was cosmetic and how much was structural.

“I think it’s a good idea, you may even be able to pillage some supplies, like picking up hay that falls off carts for the thatch,” he said thoughtfully, “the main structural support is still intact, does the mill still work?”

“It worked poorly two years ago; I don’t know about now.” 

“Well, it can’t be in too rough shape if it worked then.” 

“Don’t encourage her,” Kiki said lightheartedly. 

“No, really, I think you should do it! The nearest mill is the next town over. If you fixed it up people would come, it’s a good plan.” Kiki rolled her eyes as if to say that the months of living in luxury had made him forget what the real world was like, but the closer he looked the more he thought that all the place needed was a new roof and some elbow grease. 

“Thanks for the advice, Master Dragon.”

Yato rolled his eyes at the title. “Whatever, you should listen to me, I’m smart.” 

Kiki actually snorted. Rude. “So how are they treating you up there? Going easy on you?” 

“Not even almost,” Yato pulled the neckline to the side to reveal a nasty looking bruise he’d gotten somehow. “They mean well, but they hit hard.” 

Kiki winced. “You and Crane seem… close, though,” she gave him a knowing look, and heat flooded his cheeks. “I  _ knew _ it!”

“Well, it’s nothing  _ serious _ , we’ve just… kissed a few times.” 

“Oh my  _ God _ , you’re only there three months and you’re already bedding one of the masters!”

“I’m not- we’re not-  _ Kiki _ ! I told you, we’re not- not yet- I don’t-  _ KIKI!” _ She was snickering louder and louder the more he stammered until he just couldn’t take it anymore. He glared at her as she waved a hand placatingly. 

“Sorry, sorry, I’m messing with you. But man, it must really be new if you’re still embarrassed about it.”

“There’s just a lot going on in my life right now!”

“That’s fair,” she ceded. 

Yato didn’t have to wait long for Ayame and the others to return and when they did, he beguiled them with (exaggerated) stories for a few hours before getting to his feet and excusing himself. 

“Mister Bigshot has to get back to his cushy new life and girlfriend,” Ayame teased. 

“Hey, keep that last part to yourself,” Yato warned. 

He didn’t know what exactly he and Hiyori were yet, but he did know he didn’t want rumors spreading with Rabo already on his way. 

From the mill Yato went to the village commons. There was nowhere in particular that he wanted to go so he went everywhere, stopping at stalls that caught his eye and ducking into stores that he was interested in. He actually spent so long in the fabric store that the shopkeeper forgot he was there, jumping when Yato walked out of the aisles. 

“Oh, Master Dragon!”

“Yeah, Hi!”

“Can I help you, Master?”

“I was just looking, you have such an impressive selection, far more variety than I was expecting for a town of this size.”

“Actually, we’re on the way between fabric traders and quite a big city, so most of them stop in this town on their way to and from.”

“That’s so interesting, you have many fine silks, I’d be afraid to cut them for fear I’d ruin them.”

“You sew, Master Dragon?” Yato nodded. 

“I taught myself!” He said proudly. 

“Did you have a particular project in mind?”

“Honestly I was thinking of making something for Master Crane, she’s been very good to me, but, uh, we’re a little low on free time at the moment,” he said, embarrassed to admit that what he was  _ actually  _ low on was funds. The shopkeeper nodded. 

“We’ll still be here when you get the time, though,” the shopkeeper said.

* * *

A few people on the streets actually asked Yato for his autograph, which he obliged because he felt it would be rude to refuse. He browsed a few more stores and picked up Kazuma’s book before heading to the market to pick up some ingredients for dinner.

“Is it okay if you send the bill to the Jade Palace? I didn’t bring any money,”  _ you don’t have money _ . 

“Of course, Master Dragon,” the lady said, smiling. 

Yato smiled back and took the packaged meat, placing it in his bag and moving on to the next stand, thinking to get something green as well. Worried whispering caught his attention and he tuned into it without looking up from his task. 

“They say the village was destroyed in hours.”

“I heard that only two were there.” 

“The Village of Falling Dusk is only a two-day ride from here.”

“The Gods of Calamity have never come this close before.” 

All other sounds in the marketplace were drowned out in a screaming silence. 

“Who?” Yato choked out, though he knew the answer. “Which Gods of Calamity?”

“The Demon and the Spirit,” the woman answered somberly. 

The world fell out from around Yato and he banged into another customer, sprinting blindly in the direction of the Jade Palace. 

Their time was up.

* * *

Yato didn’t even register the strain of climbing the stairs. Before he knew it, he was in the courtyard and crashed full throttle into Bishamon, who shouted in annoyance. His groceries scattered across the ground. 

“Would you watch-”

“ _ They’re coming!” _ Bishamon looked alarmed by Yato’s frantic tone. “ _ The Demon and the Spirit! They’re coming!” _

“Keep talking,” Bishamon said, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him inside. 

“Rabo and Nora destroyed the Village of Falling Dusk,” Yato gasped once he was in the training hall in front of the others. 

Silence resounded. Hiyori’s jaw dropped. 

“W-why? If it’s you they’re after-”

“They do that sometimes. It’s a warning. They’re telling me to either get ready for a fight or prepare to surrender.”

“Holy shit,” Yukine said. 

“What are we going to do?” Yato asked. 

“Evacuate the staff. No amount of guards will stop them from getting in and we’ll fight better if we’re not protecting them.”

“We could join Master Tenjin in the Palace of the Rising Sun,” Hiyori suggested. “If we leave the valley, they might spare the village.”

“I don’t think so. Father probably told them to raze it to the ground to teach me a lesson.”

“What lesson?” Kofuku asked, looking like she didn’t really want to know. 

“That I destroy everything I touch,” he said hollowly. There was a long pause. 

“I’ll tell the staff to leave.” 

“No one go anywhere without your weapons, even sleep fully armed,” Kazuma said. “And pack a go bag.” Yato grabbed his katana and wakizashi before concealing all the other weapons he could without weighing himself down. 

He slipped out to grab the groceries he’s dropped. They had to eat, after all, and cooking helped calm his mind. 

Contrasting with the peace that the night usually brought Yato, now every sound was a threat. He jumped out of his skin when something in the corner of his eye moved, his mind conjuring a flash of silver. It was only Yukine. 

“Hey, Kazuma said no one goes anywhere alone.”

“Good, we shouldn’t sleep alone, either.”

“We’re setting up camp in the dojo. Do you really think they’ll destroy the village?”

“I think they’ll sneak up here themselves, but there’s no telling how many Phantoms they’re bringing along. If they can manage it, they’ll spirit me away while the town is burning.”

_ I have to try one more time. _

* * *

Everyone was piled up together in the training hall after dinner. Evacuation of the village had begun when the Six sent the palace staff away with the news that the valley wasn’t safe and the Striking Six had eaten dinner to the sombering sound of the village alarm bell going off in the distance. Yato was twitching nervously, tapping twice in quick succession, then pausing, then tapping twice again. The time was upon him that he would have to cement his place in the Six by killing Rabo. To say he was  _ not  _ looking forward to it was a vast understatement. 

Just as his panicked thoughts reached their zenith the doors of the dojo swung open to reveal three figures standing outlined against the moonless sky. The Six were on their feet at the same time. Yato took a few steps forward to stand at the front and face his fate. 

Nora giggled in the high-pitched cruel chime that never failed to send shivers down his spine. 

“Ka-go-me… Ka-go-me…” she chanted, wearing a mocking smile. 

“Shit!” Yato swore, eyes swinging up to the high windows where a host of Father’s Phantoms crouched, waiting. The others followed his gaze and closed ranks, eyes on the Phantoms. 

“They won’t attack until they’re ordered,” Yato told them. 

His gaze shifted from Nora, sliding over Kugaha, and landing squarely on Rabo, who had been fixing him with a piercing gaze since the second the doors had opened. Yato’s mouth went dry as he struggled to find something to say. 

“I thought it would just be you two. Why’d you bring the bastard? No one likes him,” is what he landed on. Kugaha spluttered in indignation but Yato ignored him. 

“Your father insisted,” Rabo replied, his voice smoothing out over the tense air. “On them too.”

“I don’t know if I should be flattered or offended, I’ve never solicited an entire brigade before.”

“You’ve never actually defected before,” Rabo said. So, he did know, good. At least Yato wasn’t blindsiding him. 

“It doesn’t have to be only me. The soldiers are nothing, and I’ve always wanted to kill the bastard.”

“Not a very appealing offer,” Nora hummed. 

“What if I let you kill the bastard?”

She made a considering noise and Yato once again ignored the indignant sound Kugaha made. Yato returned his gaze to Rabo, giving him the same pleading look he’d given him a dozen times before, praying this time it would work but knowing in his heart that it wouldn’t. 

“We could work something out,” he said quietly. Rabo shook his head once, and Yato sighed. 

“Until the end,” Rabo said, drawing his sword slowly. 

“Until the end,” Yato repeated.

The end was now.


	12. 11- Love You To Death

Rabo lunged, forcing Yato back with a long sweep of his sword. Yato leaped into the air and bounced off a column, propelling himself over Rabo’s head and landing behind his back. He rolled to his knees and attacked Rabo’s exposed back, but Rabo’s sword appeared out of nowhere to block the strike. Yato huffed; unfortunately for him, Rabo knew all of his tricks. Unfortunately for Rabo, Yato also knew all of his; he jumped back and out of the way of Rabo’s next attack, face falling into a smug smile. 

Rabo pursued, slashing from the left and kicking from the right, forcing Yato to block with both of his swords. Metal clashed against metal on one side as on his other the wakizashi sank into the flesh of Rabo’s calf. Blood welled from the wound and spilled down the incline of Yato’s blade toward his hand. 

“I see you haven’t let your skills falter.”

“Did you really expect me to?” 

Yato drove himself forward, dragging the wakizashi up the tender flesh of Rabo’s thigh, raining blood on the mat below them as he brought his other sword down to slash his chest. Rabo used that astounding balance of his to backflip away from the attack, splattering Yato’s face with blood from his leg wound as he did it. He landed in a crouch and in the same moment bounded forward, driving the tip of his sword into Yato’s arm. Swearing loudly, Yato ripped his arm free and unleashed a frenzy of attacks that Rabo matched blow for blow, managing to keep Yato at a distance with his superior reach. 

Rabo made an unexpected push forward and slashed the backs of Yato’s fingers, forcing the wakizashi out of his hands as he recoiled. He pressed the advantage, pushing Yato back and away from his fallen sword. Swinging for Yato’s chest, he forced him into a backbend. As he leaned back Yato brought his foot up through Rabo’s blind spot and hit him hard enough in the chin to send him careening back right when his balance was at its worst. 

“DID YOU JUST SEE THAT!” He cried, laughing in triumph as Rabo staggered back and knocked several phantoms off their feet. 

Rabo rolled his eyes as he wrenched the weapons from the fallen phantoms and flung them at Yato as he scrambled back towards his second sword. He swore when one of them clipped the bottom of his shoe. When the next sword was right about to impale his head, he dove out of the way, hitting the ground hard, but skidding close enough to his sword to wrap his bloodied fingers around the hilt. Triumphantly, Yato rolled to his feet only to be struck in the shoulder with a dagger. 

He staggered from the impact, caught off guard momentarily before looking Rabo directly in the eyes and ripping the dagger out, teeth gritted. Yato flung the knife back at Rabo, but his blood slicked fingers let the knife slip too soon and the knife whizzed too far to the left, nearly hitting Kazuma, who took a startled look in the direction the knife had come from and took a hit from his opponent while he was distracted. 

“Sorry!” Yato shouted, eyes returning to Rabo. 

They stood now at opposite ends of the training mat. Each took a few moments to observe the other, Nora forcing Yukine to retreat through the distance between the two men while they sized each other up. Both of them were streaming stains of red but it was impossible to tell the severity of their wounds as they streaked past, locked in combat. Yato took the opportunity to wipe his bloody palm on his pants. 

Rabo lunged forward as soon as the two cleared the area. Yato threw several of the knives he’d concealed on his person, taking Rabo by surprise. Yato had never liked to be weighed down by additional weapons, and Yato had been counting on Rabo’s knowledge of this to surprise him. Even with the added surprise, he managed to block one of the knives. One sank into the soft skin of his side and the other sliced across his shoulder. He didn’t flinch, not even as he removed the dagger embedded in his flesh, reminding Yato of the whispers he’d heard before Rabo joined the Gods of Calamity. 

_ The Demon of the Woods knows no pain and feels no remorse. He is surely from the depths of hell, here to drag as many people back with him as he can.  _

Their exchange became more and more vicious, stirring the ice that Yato had been trying to suppress. It rose steadily from the depths of his being, slowly consuming him and Yato couldn’t be sure if Rabo was escalating the fight to  _ cause  _ this change or if he was merely reacting to it. Not that it mattered, the haze of a hard fight was starting to overtake him either way. The world started to fall away. All Yato could see was the flowing of Rabo’s long hair, the splash of red across his white robes, and the flashing of his blade as they bounded across the room. 

Yukine was nearly trampled by Yato and Rabo as they fought their way around the room, too absorbed in their own combat to care about anything else. Yato hadn’t even appeared to notice when he’d crashed down between Yukine and Nora two heartbeats before their own weapons collided. However, the two men roving through their fight gave Yukine time to recover from the advantage that Nora had gained and block her next attack. 

“You know he doesn’t really love you,” Nora purred, face too calm for someone locked in an intense fight. “He just feels sorry for you.” 

She ripped a trainee nameplate off the wall and threw it at him, following it with a throwing knife so quickly that he didn’t see it and barely avoided losing his eye. The knife slashed open his cheek, gliding across his temple and over his ear. 

“What would you know about it? You haven’t been around!” Yukine retorted. In his mind, he heard Yato saying that Nora liked to get into her opponents’ heads and not to let her, but he couldn’t help engaging. 

“I know that I’m his  _ real _ family, not a replacement he found to feel less lonely while he was away from home!” 

“This  _ is  _ his home! We love him! We want what’s best for him and you’re just trying to drag him back into a life he hates in a house that he’s miserable in! If you loved him, you’d let him go!”

“You held him captive!”

“So, did you!”

“We’re his  _ family _ !”

“So are we!”

Nora aimed a kick between Yukine’s legs that he dodged, back slamming into a column that he hadn’t known was there. He ducked and seconds later Nora’s sword sank into the wood where his neck had been. She ripped the blade free as Yukine scrambled away, knocking an empty weapons rack into her path to impede her pursuit. Nora kicked the rack away with ease, pursuing Yukine with loathing painted across her face. 

“You’re pathetic! How did someone like you manage to become a master of this stupid dojo?”

“I’m not pathetic! You’re just trying to upset me! Yato told me about you!”

“Did he tell you  _ everything _ ?” She asked, lips quirking into a malicious smile. 

“He told me about the guy that you beat up with a spoon!” She blinked in surprise, her mask of anger falling. 

“Oh my  _ God _ . That was  _ years  _ ago! Will you  _ ever  _ get over it? It was  _ one  _ time!” She shouted, turning angry eyes to the rafters where Yato and Rabo had somehow taken their fight. “ _ Idiot _ .” 

“You’re telling me,” Yukine replied involuntarily, regaining her attention. She turned to him; face once again full of the quiet self-assurance that had seemed so scary only moments ago. 

Now, though, her spell was broken, and he recognized her as what she was: a kid his age. And like him, she thought Yato was an idiot. She was right of course, but that made her human, not the spirit of malevolence that she was masquerading as. 

“He thinks he’s  _ so cool _ ,” Yukine went on, wondering if he could capitalize on their kinship to distract her or win her sympathies, “but really he’s just a moron who happens to be good at sword fighting.” 

“If you hate him so much you should let us take him off your hands,” she solicited. 

_ Well, that didn’t work. _

“Nah, he may be an idiot, but he’s my idiot.” 

She looked annoyed. Seconds later she attacked him again, but now he had a better handle on the situation.  _ Remember your training. Watch her body and not her weapons. Nora likes to surprise her opponents by using things from their environment. _ Yato had also said that Nora was a successful assassin because she’d come dangerously close to removing her tells, but they made a stronger appearance when she was mad. 

Well, she was mad now. 

Her foot twisted suddenly and Yukine swung his staff up to block his opposite side, blocking her successfully. He smirked and she growled. 

Nora attacked, again and again, moving so fast that Yukine could barely keep up until her sword bit so deeply into the wood of his staff that he was able to twist it violently from her hands and send it flying across the room in the same movement that he whipped the end of his weapon across her face. He winced at the sound of impact as she stumbled back and hit the ground. She  _ was  _ Yato’s sister, after all. Yato wouldn’t be mad if Yukine hurt her, would he?

She lay motionless, hair fanned across her face, chest barely rising and falling. Yukine approached slowly, aware that this was probably a trap, but unable to resist the thread pulling him forward, urging him to check on her wellbeing. 

“Uh, Nora?” He asked, prodding her shoulder with the end of his staff. Her body rocked with the movement, but she remained otherwise still. On edge, Yukine used the butt of his staff to flick the hair out of her face and let out a surprised shriek of alarm when her eyes were wide open and fixed on his face. 

All eyes turned to Yukine in time to see Nora rip the staff from his hands and throw a dagger at his chest. Shifting his stance dangerously fast, Yukine managed to avoid a killing blow, but he stumbled back several steps, the dagger protruding from his bicep. 

“Yukine!” Yato cried, distracted from his fight long enough for Rabo to land a wicked slash across Yato’s chest and knock him from the rafters. Yato plummeted to the earth, colliding with the ground with a bone-cracking thud. 

“Yato!” Several voices called. 

Yukine tried to run to his side but Nora stepped into his path, wielding a dagger, and looking entirely unconcerned that her brother had just fallen twenty feet. He drew his own dagger, thankful that Yato had bullied him into concealing a few on his person, but even more thankful that Hiyori was blocking Yato’s line of sight so he couldn’t see him using the dagger he’d said he didn’t need. 

Yukine wasn’t nearly as skilled with a dagger as he was with a staff and his clumsy deflections and parries earned him several bleeding cuts on his hands that were starting to slick his palm and make it harder for him to properly handle his weapons. 

He needed to get back to his staff.

* * *

Hiyori, Kofuku, and Daikoku were thinning the ranks of the sorcerer’s Phantoms, each taking on three or four at once while Bishamon and Kazuma took on Kugaha. Or, at least, they tried too. 

Kugaha had created a cloud of what they presumed was poison and was hiding inside of it where they could neither see nor reach him. He cackled like a maniac while Tigress and Mantis circled around the poison, trying to ensure that he didn’t escape while Bishamon made blind swipes with her whip to try and catch him. 

Hiyori’s attention was caught by Yato dropping to the ground, streaming blood. She used her naginata to strike down three opponents at once, leaping over them and bounding to Yato’s side in two strides. He groaned, swatting feebly at her as she ran a quick survey of his wounds. 

“Get away, he’ll kill you.” 

“Are you okay? Is anything broken?” She asked, ignoring his warning. She snatched his sword off the ground and pressed it into his palm as she helped him sit, then stand. 

Rabo landed gracefully three feet from them and Yato shoved Hiyori away, putting his body in between theirs. 

“Hiyori, please, help Yukine. I’m alright.” She shot him a disbelieving look, looking pointedly at everything from his tangled remnants of a ponytail to his shredded and bloodied clothes. “This is between us,” he added quietly. Hiyori took a deep breath, then nodded once, turning in Yukine’s direction and knocking away any phantoms that crossed her path. 

For the first time since he’d entered the building, Rabo’s eyes left Yato. They focused instead on Hiyori, jaw tightening as he watched her retreat across the room, dancing in and out of danger with all of her flighty grace. 

“Hey! Eyes over here!” Yato barked, pointing his katana at Rabo.

Rabo turned tumultuous eyes to Yato, speaking only two words. “I see.” 

Yato gulped and hesitated. Had he  _ really _ ? From that little interaction?

He shifted from foot to foot, reaching up with his free hand to tug twice on his earlobe. Rabo’s gaze followed the movement. “Um, are we going to keep fighting or not?”

* * *

While crossing the room to Yukine’s side Hiyori used the long handle of her naginata to clothesline two Phantoms who had been trying to sneak up on Daikoku. They hit the ground as Hiyori passed, making a beeline for Yukine’s fallen staff. Even from the opposite side of the room she could tell he was struggling with the close quarters combat, even if his opponent was similar in size to him. 

When Hiyori reached Yukine’s weapon she used the flat of her blade to flip it up, snatching it out of the air and flinging it easily in his direction. 

“Monkey!” She called. 

Yukine turned just in time to avoid being struck in the head. The end planted in the ground and Yukine jumped for it, dagger falling to the ground, forgotten. He shouted a quick thank you as his fingers closed around the weapon and he spun on the spot, at the ready for Nora’s next attack. She cast a glare over her shoulder at Hiyori, who winced at the nasty bruise Yukine had given her. 

_ She’s a God of Calamity _ , she reminded herself.  _ She’s more than willing to take advantage of your sympathy.  _ Hiyori hardened her gaze and Nora’s eyes narrowed. 

A quiet whisper of steel through the air to her right was the only warning Hiyori got before a sword swung into Hiyori’s peripheral vision, heading straight for her neck. She flicked up the handle of her naginata, just barely saving her life, though a thin line of blood trickled down and stained her collar.  _ Too close.  _

Hiyori reeled away from her attacker, swiping her naginata wildly behind her. She turned to watch a dead phantom falling to the ground, nearly cleaved in half. She winced as the corpse hit the ground, splattering hot blood all over her ankles. It wasn’t the fault of that poor person that they were possessed, but she wouldn’t be able to free the others if she died. Swallowing her guilt, she took stock of her surroundings. 

Daikoku and Kofuku were completely surrounded; there were far too many phantoms left. The training area was completely wrecked, and it looked like the floors would have to be ripped out and burned, the bloodstains would never scrub clean. 

Another phantom came screaming at Hiyori from the side and she casually whipped the flat end of her blade up, knocking the woman hard under the chin. She then jabbed her hard in the diaphragm, knocking all the air out of her and sending her tumbling into a phantom that Kofuku was fighting. When the phantom fell the two women made eye contact. Kofuku winked, then spun away, her blood splattered skirt whirling. 

Hiyori turned back to the phantoms who had started to surround her. 

“There’s just no end to them.” 

Her muscles were starting to tire but she pushed through it, there was still so much to do. Everyone she loved was under attack and she was going to protect them come hell or high water. She shook her head and got back to work.

* * *

Yato’s breathing was haggard, he was covered in blood, and he honestly didn’t think his hair was even  _ in  _ its ponytail anymore, so much of it was falling around his face. His only solace was that Rabo was covered in as much blood and dirt as he was, though he  _ still  _ somehow managed to look beautiful and otherworldly. The bastard. Not to mention the  _ look _ he was giving Yato; like he wanted to eat him alive.  _ Rabo please, _ he almost said,  _ we’re in public _ . 

Yato took a moment to wrangle his ponytail, glad to find his tie still hanging on for dear life at the back of his head. He kept a careful watch on Rabo to make sure he wouldn’t attack while his hands were busy. Rabo waited patiently for Yato to finish with his hair, which struck Yato as both strange and not, of course, Rabo had always respected that boundary of not attacking Yato while he was pulling his hair up (he liked the ponytail), but Yato had half expected that understood rule to be out of the window now. 

When he was finished, he wiped the blood from his forehead with his sleeve and sighed. He’d gotten  _ that  _ wound when Rabo had slammed his head into a wooden warrior. Their long-term relationship had culminated into a  _ very  _ vicious fight between two people who knew all of each other’s tricks and weaknesses. But despite the heavy seed of dread and grief that grew in the pit of Yato’s stomach as the unavoidable end of the fight drew closer, he found himself having fun. 

If this was to be their last fight then it was a fight to remember, for sure. 

A quick glance around the room told Yato that there were far fewer phantoms than before. His friends were cleaning house, though it was impossible to tell from this distance how much of the blood that covered them belonged to them and how much belonged to the enemy. He raised an eyebrow at Kazuma and Bishamon, who were for some reason walking in circles around a cloud, but he quickly decided it wasn’t his problem. 

“Looks like my team is winning,” Yato bragged, grinning at Rabo. 

“For now,” Rabo replied, smirking. 

Rabo sprang into action, pushing Yato into the forest of wooden warriors. He groaned internally as the limbs slammed into his back. He was going to have  _ so  _ many bruises. Rabo simply sliced off the arms in his way. Yato envied him the luxury of moving forward and being able to do so. Deciding that he’d had enough, Yato leaped straight into the air, landing balanced on the head of a wooden warrior. Rabo followed, landing some distance away and wearing a smile that said he’d done that just to piss Yato off. Jerk. 

Yato hopped forward, pushing Rabo back until he was forced to jump from the last of the wooden warrior heads. He landed gracefully on the rim of the jade turtle, balanced perfectly. Yato remained, arms crossed, on the top of a wooden warrior, shaking his head. 

“No,” he said simply. 

He  _ knew  _ Rabo held fondly onto the memories of tossing Yato around inside the Jade Turtle at Father’s compound, but Yato did  _ not _ . 

Rabo chuckled, flashing a real, genuine smile before stepping backward off the turtle. Yato dropped to the ground as well, pretending the sound of Rabo’s elusive laugh  _ hadn’t  _ just sent a rush of warm affection through his heart.

* * *

Bishamon got tired of waiting for Kugaha to decide that it was time to fight and covered her face with her sleeve, plunging into the cloud of poison despite Kazuma’s protest. She drew her massive sword, swinging it around herself in a wide and impossible to avoid arc. Her blade impacted with something soft and she hefted all her strength and bodyweight into throwing Kugaha out of the smoke cloud. He flew across the room, smacking into a wall and crumpling like a ragdoll with Bishamon in pursuit. As she neared, he lurched suddenly into motion and flung a capsule that hit her high in the chest and exploded in her face, filling her eyes and nose with burning purple powder. 

“Viina!”

Kazuma looked between Kugaha and Bishamon, momentarily torn, then launched himself at Kugaha, slamming him hard against the wall. 

“What was the poison?” He snarled. Kugaha laughed in his face, eyes taking on a deranged glint. Kazuma suddenly understood why Yato hated him so much. “Tell me the poison or I’ll kill you!” 

Kugaha grinned and shook his head. “You can’t kill me, or your woman will die.” 

Kazuma drew one of his khanjars and plunged it deeply into Kugaha’s chest, twisting violently when he had buried it up to the handle. There was a wet squelching sound as shock registered on Kugaha’s face before he collapsed, eyes open and sightless. 

“Poisoners always carry antidotes on their person, just in case they get a drop of their own medicine.” 

Kazuma sprang to his feet and bolted to Bishamon’s side, kneeling next to her. “Viina, are you alright?” Her hand reached out blindly in the direction of his voice and he took it and pressed it to his lips. “I’m right here.” Bishamon coughed and gasped for air, writhing in pain. 

“Hiyori! Help!” Kazuma cried out. 

Her head snapped around, eyes widening when they landed on Bishamon, retching on the floor. She shoved roughly past the phantoms in front of her, knocking one out cold with the flat of her blade as she bolted to Bishamon’s side. The naginata clattered to the ground as Hiyori dropped to her knees, grabbing hold of Bishamon’s face and checking her pupil dilation, then her pulse. 

“Keep them off me,” she said curtly. Kazuma nodded once and stood. 

“You have all the time you need,” he said severely, burying a khanjar up to its handle in the chest of a phantom, driven beyond caring about their imprisoned humanity by the sounds of Bishamon’s rasping. 

“Bishamon, what color was the poison?” 

“Purple,” she rasped.

Hiyori nodded and picked the remnants of the capsule from Bishamon’s clothes carefully, holding it up to the light. Once that was done, she left Bishamon’s side to rummage through Kugaha’s pockets, casting aside the things she didn’t need. 

“It would be somewhere within easy reach,” she muttered. 

“Hi-yori,” Bishamon wheezed with a cough. 

Hiyori turned, heart dropping when Bishamon turned her face and she saw the blood streaming from her eyes. 

“ _ Fuck. _ ” She was running out of time. 

Hiyori turned back to the corpse of Kugaha, her father’s voice echoing in her mind.  _ Haste makes mistakes. _ She had once shot to save Bishamon’s life and there was no room for mistakes. But as the sounds of Bishamon’s breathing became more labored and wet Hiyori got impatient and ripped Kugaha’s shirt open to search for concealed pockets. His scarf shifted heavily with the force of the movement and she paused, a small smile playing across her lips. Taking hold of the blood-soaked garment she felt around carefully until she felt the pocket with the vial and ripped the fabric open with her teeth. 

Not one for taking chances, Hiyori held the bottle up to the light, then uncorked it and sniffed the contents, sighing with relief when it was exactly what she was looking for. She leaped to Bishamon’s side and forced her jaw open, smearing Kugaha’s blood all over her chin and dumping the contents of the vial into her mouth as her body started to shake. 

“Swallow,” Hiyori ordered, covering her mouth and nose to force the reflex in case she was beyond comprehension. A few long seconds passed before Bishamon swallowed and Hiyori sagged with relief, brushing the other woman’s hair out of her face. 

“Relax, the antidote will need time to work its way through your body. Let it.” 

She looked over her shoulder to where Kazuma was tearing through any phantom that got within arm’s reach, no longer under any sort of control. As she watched he opened the throat of one phantom and grabbed him by the bloody and torn neck to throw him into an incoming attacker. 

“She’s safe!” Hiyori called, but Kazuma seemed beyond hearing. 

She shook her head and stood, knocking out the last few phantoms that Kazuma hadn’t slaughtered, and when he noticed the lack of enemies, he returned to Bishamon’s side without even looking at Hiyori. 

Cautiously she approached and put a hand on Kazuma’s shoulder. A second later she was staring up at the rafters with one of Kazuma’s bloody khanjar’s pressed to her throat, his wild eyes glaring unseeingly. 

“Kazuma,” Hiyori said calmly. “It’s me, and she’s going to be fine. Viina is going to be fine. She just needs rest.” Comprehension dawned slowly in his eyes and he nodded, removing his knife from Hiyori’s throat, and returning to Bishamon’s side without apologizing.

* * *

Rabo skidded into the cool night air after Yato attacked with more force than he’d thought he had left in him. The Demon stood, wreathed in the darkness of the moonless sky, breathing hard. Both of them were much worse for wear. 

“You don’t have to do this! You can come with me!” Yato pleaded, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his tattered and bloodstained sleeve. “I know you think the Gods of Calamity are the only place you fit, but we can figure something out!”

“There’s no room for a born killer in your new world, Yato,” Rabo said solemnly, falling into an attack stance that Yato knew well. He reacted instinctively, sinking low. “It’s time we finish this.” Yato ignored the dagger those words forced into his heart. 

“Until the end,” he said quietly. 

“Until the end,” Rabo repeated. 

They shot forward at the same time, Rabo’s sword raking across Yato’s chest as the dagger Yato had hidden pierced Rabo’s heart. A terrible sound escaped Yato’s body as Rabo’s knees buckled, his life pouring out over Yato’s hand. 

Yato released the dagger and caught Rabo in both arms, tears cutting paths through the dirt and blood caked on his face as Yato gently lowered the two of them to the ground. 

“No…” he whined, his grief breaking over his head like a wave. 

“It’s...okay,” Rabo choked, the sound of blood bubbling in the back of his throat distorting his words. A trail of red escaped the corner of his mouth as he struggled through his last words. “I wanted...to be destroyed...by you…” A painful sob tore from Yato’s chest. 

He leaned down, placing one final kiss on Rabo’s lips under the moonless sky. 

A tear fell onto Rabo’s cheek as the hand that clutched at Yato’s robes fell away.

* * *

Kofuku ducked under the thrown blade of the last remaining phantom before dispatching them. She looked at Daikoku, expecting him to grin, but instead saw a look of dawning horror as he shouted. 

“Yato, lookout!” 

She whirled around just in time to see Yato, standing over Rabo’s body and swaying dangerously, be struck square in the chest by the same dagger that Kofuku had dodged only a heartbeat before. Yato teetered for one long moment, then fell next to Rabo. 

Yato coughed feebly when he hit the ground, turning his face to look blearily at Rabo. With the last bit of strength in his body, as darkness closed in around him, he reached out and took Rabo’s limp hand. 

_ Looks like I’ll be following you into hell after all. I’m glad. It’s better this way. _

* * *

Nora screamed when Yato hit the ground, blood-curdling and horrible, but no one so much as looked her way. The four that remained converged on Yato’s position in a panic, Hiyori hitting her knees and skidding to a halt in the collective pool of blood that belonged to Yato and Rabo. 

“Yato! Stay with me! Don’t you  _ dare  _ die!” She screamed, tearing open his shirt to survey the damage. Nora looked away, horrified, and saw that everyone she’d traveled here with was dead. Biting her lip against the rising hysteria, Nora slipped out the back door on shaky legs. If Yato were to live it wouldn’t be because of her help. She needed to get back to Father.

* * *

Hiyori began barking out orders, shoving away all her emotions, and locking onto her medical training. 

“Yukine, Kofuku, I need bandages and my emergency kit. Daikoku, keep pressure on this wound.” They all did as she asked without hesitation, Yukine and Kofuku tearing across the body-strewn ground in the direction of the infirmary. 

Hiyori moved to sit next to Yato’s head and drew her dagger, placing the blade underneath Yato’s nose. She fairly sobbed in relief when Yato’s breath fogged onto the blade. 

“He’s breathing, but only just.” 

“Can you save him?” Daikoku asked. Her medical training said  _ no _ . The wound was too deep, it had to have struck his heart, he had too many other serious wounds, but she  _ refused _ to let Yato die before he’d become the man he wanted to be. 

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen anyone live through a wound like this, but he’s strong…”  _ Strength might not be enough.  _

It had to be. 

Two minutes later Yukine and Kofuku came tearing through the dojo, waking Bishamon, and skidded to a halt at Hiyori’s side, holding out the things she requested. As soon as she was relieved of her burdens Kofuku strode away and sat with her legs crossed across the courtyard- unwilling to risk Yato’s life if her aura really  _ did _ cause disasters. 

“Kofuku, go get our bags, we’ll have to get out of here fast,” Hiyori said, not looking up as she worked diligently on Yato’s many wounds. Kofuku sprinted out of view again. Several silent minutes passed while Hiyori stitched up every cut she could see. 

“I’ve done all I can.” 

“Is he going to live?”

“I don’t… I don’t know. I’ve heard of chi being able to bring people back from near death, but I don’t know how to do it. The only person who might be able to is… Tenjin.” 

“He’s at the Palace of The Rising Sun! That’s two days away!”

“It’s his only chance. I might be able to keep him alive until we get there.” 

“We can’t leave the valley unprotected,” Daikoku said. 

Hiyori frowned and looked around at all of them. Some protection they were, all of them injured and Yato and Bishamon both incapacitated. 

She made a decision. 

“Yukine, go ring the alarm bell and resume the evacuation of the village, anyone who hasn’t left already needs to leave now. Tell the headman what’s happened and charge our senior trainees with protecting the villagers. Tell them to ask masters of nearby villagers for asylum. Cherry Blossom Village has a master protecting it. Kazuma, Daikoku, go and get the palanquin, we’re going to have to carry Yato and Bishamon down the mountain. From there we’ll load them into a cart and take them to the Palace of Rising Sun.”

A few seconds of stunned silence ensued before they followed her orders, Kazuma only leaving Bishamon’s side because she weakly told him to “do it, idiot.” 

Hiyori knelt next to the barely alive Yato and took his free hand, feeling it would be wrong to free his other from Rabo’s. Taking it had been the last thing he’d wanted to do. 

“Come on, Yato,” she whispered. “You can get through this.” 

In the distance, the alarm bell from the village started ringing and Hiyori sighed. She imagined the villagers being startled out of their beds and hurriedly packing their belongings. 

After a few quiet moments of the alarm bell chiming Hiyori was alerted to the boy’s return with the palanquin by the soft crunching of grass. 

“You’re both injured as well, do you think you can manage to carry them both?”

“Down the stairs at least.” 

Hiyori nodded. 

“We might as well get going. Unless you have anything that needs attention right away?” Both shook their heads. “Alright, Daikoku help me with Yato. Kazuma, can you handle Bishamon?” He nodded. 

Together Hiyori and Daikoku lifted Yato as gently as they could and placed him in the palanquin before Hiyori’s gaze was drawn back to Rabo. 

“Should we…?” 

“We can put him inside the dojo, at least,” Daikoku suggested, following her gaze. 

While Kazuma gently loaded Bishamon into the palanquin Daikoku and Hiyori carried Rabo’s body into the dojo and tucked him away from the rest of the carnage. It was the most they could do, but still, Hiyori felt guilty for just  _ leaving  _ him there. He’d meant so much to Yato. 

Once that was done, they began making their way carefully down the stairs. Daikoku took the front two handles of the palanquin while Hiyori and Kazuma took one each in the back with Kofuku in the lead, laden down with their packs and lighting the way with a lantern. 

Once in the valley, they met up with Yukine, who now had a flower tucked into his bloodstained hair. He helped the rest of the Six carefully transplant their two comrades into a horse-drawn cart and they began the long walk to the Palace of the Rising Sun. 


	13. 12- With Love Comes Loss

_ The first time Yato saw him, Rabo was kneeling before Father.  _

_ Yato was chasing Nora down the hall, trying to catch her before she made it to the parlor (he didn’t). How the hell did her short little legs carry her so fast? _

_ “Dad! Yato hid all my shuriken!” She cried, bursting through the doors.  _

_ “Did not!” He shouted (he had), barreling into the room so fast he nearly crashed into Nora, who had stopped, wide-eyed, just inside the doorway.  _

_ Father wasn’t alone.  _

_ Long and wavy white hair caught Yato’s attention, drawing his eyes as the head it was attached to turned silently to look at him. The unearthly red eyes of the boy sitting in front of him erased all else from Yato’s mind.  _

_ “Oh,” he said quietly.  _ He’s my age. 

And super cute. 

And he’s looking at me. 

_ “I was just about to call for you,” Father said, smiling. “I found you a new friend.” _

_ “A new friend?” Nora asked.  _

_ Yato hardly heard them, he was still maintaining speechless eye contact with the boy, lips parted in surprise. The boy returned his gaze unblinkingly, unnaturally still where he knelt in front of Yato’s father.  _

_ “He’s going to be the newest God of Calamity, and it turns out he’s Yato’s age, how fun!” Father said brightly. At Nora’s blank expression and Yato’s lack of reaction, he added, “I told you I was looking for him, remember?”  _

_ The gears in Yato’s mind were moving very slowly. He struggled to process this information through the fog that this boys gaze had lain over his mind. As if through water he heard Father musing about a skilled assassin that he had been thinking of ‘adding to the family.’ But Yato had thought that the assassin was an adult.  _

_ “You’re… the Demon of the Shadows?” Yato asked, leaning forward on his toes unconsciously. Something about this boy was drawing him in. The boy- The Demon of the Shadows- nodded.  _

_ “And you’re the Hollow?” Yato nodded.  _

_ “I was just telling Rabo that you don’t have any friends your age, so it will be good to have him around! Rabo, this is my son, Yato, and my daughter, Nora.”  _

_ “It’s nice to meet you,” Rabo said, inclining his head politely, revealing some bruising around the base of his neck. Yato and Nora returned his gesture, the unexpectedness of a boy with such a savage reputation having manners snapped Yato out of his trance.  _

_ He hesitated briefly, then took an experimental step forward. When Father didn’t scold him, he took another.  _

_ Yato glanced over his shoulder at Nora and exchanged with her an almost imperceptible nod. She disappeared in a flash.  _

_ Yato sprinted forward, unarmed (no running with weapons in the house) while Nora darted through the rafters above him for an aerial attack. Those hypnotizing eyes widened slightly, though the rest of him remained motionless. He thought that the Demon of the Shadows might have frozen until Yato was within arm’s reach and his hand shot out, latching powerfully onto Yato’s wrist. Rabo yanked Yato off his feet and swung him over his head, slamming him down on the wood floor at the same time he reached above himself and caught Nora by the torso when she dropped from the rafters. With a flick of his wrist, he sent Nora flying across the room.  _

_ Without hesitating The Demon of the Shadows swung one leg over Yato’s body and used it to trap Yato’s free hand while maintaining his grip on Yato’s wrist to pin it to the ground. His hair fell around them on either side, curtaining off the rest of the room so all that Yato could see was the boy’s face, inches from his, with eyes alight with savagery. That look called out to something deep inside him and he felt it rise to meet this boy’s brutality, even as his face flushed at their proximity.  _

_ There was a long, long moment of silence where the boys studied each other, Yato noticing more bruising and a few cuts on him, probably from where Father had ‘persuaded’ him to come ‘home’. He saw the boy’s eyes drift to bruises Father had left on  _ him _ the last time he’d misbehaved. Something akin to understanding passed over his face before Father’s familiar laugh filled the room. Seconds later he lifted Rabo, squirming indignantly, off Yato, revealing even more bruising and cuts along his neck and chest.  _

_ “Well?”  _

_ Yato sat up and exchanged a look with Nora. _

_ “We like him!” Nora said brightly. Yato nodded in agreement and Father chuckled again, setting the boy down across from Yato.  _

_ “See, Rabo, I told you you would fit in here.” Yato committed the name to memory.  _

_ “What do you fight with?” Yato asked eagerly, falling forward onto his hands.  _

_ “An okatana.” _

_ “What’s your secondary?” Nora asked, crossing the room and taking a seat next to Yato.  _

_ “Secondary?” _

_ “What do you fight with if you’ve been disarmed,” Yato clarified.  _

_ “I’ve never been disarmed,” Rabo said, eyes flashing.  _

_ “Is that a challenge?” Yato countered.  _

_ “Yes.”  _

_ Father erupted into laughter, grabbing the three’s attention.  _

_ “Why don’t you two show Rabo to our training hall and play for a while? I can show him his new room later.”  _

_ “Yeah!”  _

_ Yato and Nora both leaped to their feet and gestured for Rabo to do the same. Both were careful not to touch him, not knowing if he would welcome the contact or where Father had hurt him to get him here. With one final look at Father, Rabo got to his feet and followed Yato and Nora out of the room, though he walked with much more grace while they ran.  _

_ “Oh, and Yato,” Father said, catching Yato’s attention right as Rabo caught up to where they were waiting, bouncing excitedly, at the door. “Nora’s shuriken had better turn up.”  _

_ His eyes widened, face flushing as he ducked out of the room, out of Father’s sight. _

* * *

_ “Whoa,” Rabo said quietly when Yato and Nora opened the double doors into the training hall. He took several steps forward, gazing around, lips parted slightly in shock.  _

_ “Pretty cool, right?” Yato said, gazing around himself. Since he’d grown up here, he sometimes took for granted their state-of-the-art facilities.  _

_ “Father worked for years to perfect them, then, of course, he killed the contractors.” _

_ “No, he didn’t,” Yato put in. “He turned them into Phantoms in case he needed them again.”  _

_ “Nu-uh!” _

_ “Yuh-huh!”  _

_ “He did not, he killed them!” _

_ “No, he didn’t! Who else would have added the swinging bladed pendulums a few years ago?” Yato retorted. Nora took a moment to consider this before huffing.  _

_ “Whatever.” She turned her back to him, crossing her arms.  _

_ “What’s a Phantom?” Rabo asked.  _

_ “They’re people whose chi Father has stolen and uses it to control them. There’s a few around the house to do cooking and cleaning and stuff, but mostly he uses them for an army.”  _

_ Rabo looked carefully at Yato for a moment and he felt his face flush with embarrassment, he knew what he was going to say next. Even Nora turned to face them again, ready to defend Yato’s abnormality.  _

_ “Are… you one? You lack chi.”  _

_ “No!” Nora snapped, walked past Rabo to stand next to Yato.  _

_ “Not usually, anyway,” Yato grumbled bitterly, turning away from Nora’s sympathetic glance and Rabo’s curious gaze. Rabo didn’t press the subject for whatever reason and Yato was grateful.  _

_ Yato grabbed Rabo’s weapon off the rack and tossed it to him before taking up his own swords.  _

_ “Whatever. Let’s play.”  _

_ Rabo cast one loving look down the length of his blade before nodding and facing Yato.  _

_ Even with the home-field advantage, it took much longer for Yato to disarm Rabo than he thought it would. But with every minute of combat, he felt excitement rising higher in him. Rabo really  _ was  _ everything that the legends had said, and he was going to be living with them from now on. They were going to have so much fun together! Nora leaned casually against a column, watching their fight critically and shouting out harassment occasionally.  _

_ Eventually, though, Yato got the upper hand and ripped the sword from Rabo’s grip, sending it flying. He slammed Rabo into the wall, pinning his hands over his head, though it required Yato to stand on his tiptoes.  _

_ “You’re disarmed,” he said, smiling smugly. “What now?”  _

_ Rabo brought a knee up into Yato’s groin. Yato collapsed in pain while Nora roared with laughter.  _

_ “That.” _

* * *

_ Rabo strode across the gore strewn room to Yato’s side, wiping his sword on his robes as he walked.  _

_ “I was impressed with your fighting; you kill with grace.”  _

_ Yato stood motionless, empty eyes locked on the ground unseeingly, his sword hanging loosely from his fingers. Rabo understood suddenly why Yato was called the Hollow. His lack of a presence along with the empty look in his eye made him seem almost like a ghost, a hollow body with nothing in it.  _

_ “Are… you okay?” Rabo asked.  _

_ During his briefing for this, his first mission as a God of Calamity, Father had mentioned that Yato could be uncooperative at times. Could this be what he meant? Rabo looked to Nora, who sighed and picked her way through the body strewn room like a board of hopscotch.  _

_ “He gets like this sometimes. Either he’ll snap out of it and be normal or he won’t talk again for days, maybe even run away. There’s not much of a middle ground.”  _

_ “Yato?” She said, peering up into his face. “Yato, didn’t you have fun today? Wasn’t it fun to finally go on a mission with Rabo? Father will be so pleased that it went well!”  _

_ Slowly, Yato turned his whole head to look at them.  _

_ “...yeah. Yeah, it went well.” He shook his head like he was banishing unwelcome thoughts and turned much more lively eyes on Rabo. “Sorry, did you say something?”  _

_ “...You were exceptional today,” Rabo said, eyes glowing with something other than savagery. “You kill with grace.”  _

_ Yato’s eyes gleamed as he grinned at the compliment. “Thanks! So, do you, your balance with such a large blade is impressive.”  _

_ There was a long and loaded moment of silence where Nora looked between the two of them, confused.  _

_ “You guys are weird. I’m going to send a message to Father, though if we steal these people’s horses we can be home tonight.” She left the room, humming a children’s tune.  _

_ In the time it had taken to train Rabo sufficiently in his secondary weapon so that he could be allowed to go on missions he and Yato had grown close. There was something there that Yato wasn’t quite brave enough to name yet, for fear of being wrong, but it set his heart pounding every time Rabo looked at him like he was looking at him now.  _

_ “We should probably go wash off in the river and change back into our normal clothes.”  _

_ Rabo pulled down his mask and without thinking, Yato reached out and tucked it back around his face, then froze.  _

_ “Uh…” he floundered. “It’s the rules. You have to keep it on while you’re wearing the disguise, or someone might see.”  _

_ “You sure have a lot of rules,” Rabo replied. He tilted his head so that Yato’s hand, frozen in place, would brush against his cheek. Yato gasped and snatched his hand back, blushing.  _

_ “It’s to keep us safe. We rely on our anonymity to walk the streets safely and go about our business. Come on, let’s go wash off. Nora will join us when she’s done.”  _

_ “It was different,” Rabo commented with a smile. “Having a partner. Fun.”  _

_ “Yeah, it’s nice.” He shot a shy smile at Rabo, who returned it with much more confidence. _

* * *

_ Yato sat, staring up at the moon, half a smile playing across his lips as he watched the blood-red moon go across the sky. Today had been nice. He’d started feeling restless in their room below, so he’d snuck out to be alone and watch the moon. He didn’t want Nora to know he was going and think that he was running away, because he didn’t want to run away, but he didn’t want to be babysat either. He just wanted a few moments alone.  _

_ ~*~ _

_ Yato pressed his lips together tightly to hide his smile. Last night Rabo had kissed him.  _ Kissed him _. He had followed Yato onto the roof to look at the moon then kissed him. Even now his heartbeat out of rhythm when he thought about it. All the things he’d been telling himself to not get his hopes up  _ had  _ been signs that Rabo liked him back after all. Rabo caught his eye and grinned over Nora’s head at him.  _

_ Yato caught his breath and grinned back, thinking that maybe staying with Father wouldn’t be so bad if he had Rabo to keep him company. _

* * *

_ Things were much better for Yato for a while after Rabo had come. He found it easier to be good when he had another friend to talk to. It had helped tame his impulses to run away when he thought about how much more he was enjoying his time here now that Rabo was around, and he didn’t want Rabo to think he didn’t like him, because he did.  _

_ He didn’t want Rabo to know how weak he was. Father was always telling him how weak he was for running away all the time, for not wanting to cull the herd sometimes, and he didn’t want Rabo to think so too, so he tried to be strong. He had wanted Rabo to like him.  _

_ But that way of thinking hadn’t been able to sustain him forever. Slowly the old guilt started rising up to consume him again, sometimes it gripped him so tightly he could hardly breathe. How was it he still felt lonely with two friends by his side? _

_ He  _ had  _ to get out of there. He couldn’t stand the feeling of blood on his hands anymore. He wanted to be  _ good.  _ To make people  _ happy _. Why did Father say that meant he was weak? He  _ liked  _ people. They were interesting and friendly and kind. Shame and disgust washed over him as he thought about the pleasure he used to take from killing.  _

_ He gagged when he thought about how he would probably feel that way again. He always did.  _ That _ is what made him weak in his opinion. He could never hold onto his hatred for killing when he was trapped at home because it was so much easier to enjoy the slaughter than to spend so much time consumed in self-loathing and grief.  _

_ He cast a glance over his shoulder. He was alone. He regretted leaving Rabo, he really did want to be with him, but the oppressiveness of this life was just too much for him to bear right now, and even though he was hiding from that truth, he knew he’d be back. He didn’t have a choice. _

* * *

_ Rabo didn’t understand why Yato was so desperate, bordering on frantic, to escape the first time he was sent to recover Yato from one of his ‘rebellious phases’ as Father called them. He’d been shocked by the genuine panic and fear that had radiated from him as he begged for just a little more time.  _

_ “I’m not ready!” He’d pleaded, hiccupping against a sob as he fought against his restraints. “Please! Just a little more time!”  _

_ Yato had been so brutal and savage when he killed, Rabo was stunned to see this helpless side of him, but the way that Nora reacted to him said that this wasn’t out of the ordinary. For all the way home, he pondered the different sides to Yato, and wondered why he was so frightened. Sure, Father’s punishments were bad, Rabo had been subjected to a few of them by now, but they weren’t bad enough to merit this level of hysteria.  _

_ At least that’s what he thought until they got home and they dragged Yato, kicking and screaming, into the parlor where Rabo had first met him to hand him over to his father. Yato’s entire body locked up when his father spoke. Even his breathing stopped. Nora and Rabo dropped Yato on the floor as Father got to his feet; Nora dragging Rabo through the side door while Yato started to visibly shake.  _

_ “He won’t like that you stayed. He’ll be embarrassed,” Nora said as she left, breezing down the hall.  _

_ Maybe so, but he still had to know what had made Yato so frightened.  _

_ Then he understood.  _

_ During all the while he received his punishment Yato hardly made a peep, but at some point, Father said: “This hurts me more than it hurts you.”  _

_ When Yato stumbled out the door and Rabo saw what had been done to his back somehow he just didn’t think that was true.  _

_ Yato threw off all attempts to help him until he made it to his room and collapsed, face down, on his futon, giving Rabo an unobstructed view of what Yato’s punishment had been. He felt ill.  _

_ Through all that Yato hadn’t made a sound.  _

_ He was making a sound now, though he was trying not to. Every so often he would sniff or gasp, trying hard to hide the fact that he was crying.  _

_ “Why do you keep running? If this is the price?” He didn’t need to ask if this punishment was the standard, he could see the scars through the blood.  _

_ “I hate it here.” There was a long pause before Yato whispered, “please go away.”  _

_ Rabo did leave, but only to return a few minutes later with a bowl of clean water and a fresh rag. He could hear Yato sobbing through the rice paper door, but the sound stopped when Rabo slid the door open.  _

_ Rabo set the bowl down and knelt at Yato’s side. He wet the rag, then rung it out, warning Yato softly before he started wiping away the blood and cleaning the wounds.  _

_ Yato buried his face in his pillow, caught between humiliation that Rabo was seeing him like this and gratitude that he wasn’t alone, and that Rabo didn’t hate the sight of him now. His face burned with shame, but his heart warmed with something else.  _

_ Not for the first time he was grateful that Rabo was here. _

* * *

_ Rabo slowly learned all of Yato’s moods, and how to deal with them. He learned what Yato needed and what he only thought he needed when what he needed was something else. It took a lot of work, but it was worth it. He genuinely loved being with Yato, no matter which version of himself Yato was that day, and Yato slowly started trusting Rabo and showing him more of those other sides. No one had ever relied on him for comfort before, and he was finding he quite liked being the shoulder for Yato to cry on. _

* * *

_ The second time Yato ran away Rabo was filled with dread. He wasn’t sent out at once to find him, according to Nora they always let Yato go for a while, but he still knew he had to bring Yato back to that punishment. Could he do it? He had too. He would be killed if he didn’t. Yato may even be killed. Rabo still couldn’t pinpoint whether Father actually loved Yato or if he just valued him as an asset.  _

_ He wasn’t sure he  _ wanted _ to find out.  _

_ It was a month before he was sent with Nora to get Yato, and though he kept his emotions concealed as he always did, when they caught up to Yato he seemed to know Rabo’s thoughts. Apparently Rabo wasn’t the only one who had been learning the others tells. Yato came quietly that time and slept snuggled up against Rabo as if to say, ‘don’t worry, I don’t hate you.’ _

_ He didn’t cry, he didn’t scream. He returned home calmly and didn’t scream when he was punished. It occurred to Rabo as he was cleaning Yato’s wounds and he remained relaxed besides where his hands clenched the blankets, that Yato had behaved that way to protect him.  _

_ No one had ever bothered to protect Rabo from anything before.  _

_ He gulped. _

* * *

_ Years of living with him had given Rabo a better sense of Yato than he had of himself, and he could always feel it when Yato was about to run. Not that he shared that information with Father. If Yato felt he needed a break badly enough to brave the consequences of his return then Rabo wouldn’t stop him.  _

_ Yato had asked him on several occasions to come with him, but Rabo refused. He wasn’t like Yato, his life before the Gods of Calamity had been only death. He  _ enjoyed  _ the life of a God of Calamity, and he knew he would never truly leave it. If he left with Yato he would fall back into old habits and ruin things for him, or he would drag Yato down into a world he didn’t want to be in when he tried to escape.  _

_ There was no place for a man like him in the outside world because, for all that he loved a man that loved people, Rabo still loved being a killer. His life was one that wasn’t meant to be long-lived, he had known all his life that he would kill until he was killed, and he was okay with that, but he knew Yato longed for something more.  _

_ Which is why he didn’t doubt himself when he woke up that night, feeling in the hollow of his chest what was to come. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he did. He rolled over to look at Yato’s sleeping form, face softened by the moonlight, and pressed a few soft kisses to his exposed neck. Yato stirred, mumbling and grumbling, cracking open one eye to look at Rabo.  _

_ “Whassamatter?”  _

_ Rabo smiled. It was always amusing how disheveled Yato managed to get while he was sleeping, and how disoriented he was upon waking.  _

_ “Nothing, I just love you.”  _

_ Yato blinked and turned, half alarmed.  _

_ “Is sumthin wrong?”  _

_ Rabo pulled Yato in for another kiss instead of responding. He couldn’t explain the feeling deep in his bones that he knew that when Yato left this time it would be for good? Yato himself didn’t even seem aware of it yet. Perhaps the thoughts of running away hadn’t yet started to make themselves known to him. But they would, and soon. And Rabo knew he couldn’t explain the feeling that he had that his own story was drawing to a close without hurting Yato.  _

_ “Nothing is wrong, I was just dreaming about you.” Yato’s eyes flashed, a smile spreading his lips.  _

_ “Oh yeah? Was it a good dream?” _

_ “Why don’t I show you?”  _


	14. 13- Die For You

A gentle warmth welcomed Yato slowly from oblivion. Unspeakable grief and guilt engulfed him as he opened his eyes and shot up, staring around in disbelief. The world around him was glowing golden, everything from the rippling lake and its sandy shore to the sky above him. Massive rocks dotted the sky, each sporting their own ecosystems and, in some cases, architecture. 

As the memories to match his grief caught up with him, Yato realized that he should be unable to stand, in quite a lot of pain, and covered in the blood of two people, though a quick check of himself told him that none of those things were true. It did, however, reveal a semi-translucent purple tail sprouting from his rear. He swished it a few times and was glad to discover that he had control over the new phantasmal appendage. 

“Am I dead?” He wondered aloud, placing his hand over the place where steel had pierced his heart. He looked around hopefully, if he were dead, he may not have to say goodbye to Rabo after all.

“Yes and no,” a familiar voice replied, scaring the life out of him. Or maybe not; he wasn’t entirely sure he still  _ had  _ life to scare out of him.

He spun around and came face to face with someone he thought he’d never see again. 

Yato choked on her name, stumbling forward with disbelieving fingers outstretched. “Sakura.” 

Her warm smile nearly knocked his feet out from under him. “Hello, Yato. I see you’ve grown into quite a handsome young man.” She opened her arms and Yato staggered forward, collapsing against her chest, eyes squeezed shut. 

“I don’t understand.” His tears soaked into her shirt as he pressed his forehead closer to her shoulder. 

“I’ve missed you.” 

“I’ve missed you too.” 

Yato pulled back just enough to take in her face, tears still falling freely down his cheeks. Her smile was exactly as he remembered it, but she looked so young to him now. When he was a child, he’d thought she was old, but now he realized that she was younger then than he was now. 

“It’s been too long, little one.” Yato half chuckled at the words, she was the only one he didn’t mind hearing them from. “You’re right, you’re not little anymore. In fact, you’re even taller than me!” He laughed as she lifted herself onto her toes to lessen the height difference and was still several inches shorter than him. 

She giggled and fell back onto her heels, resting a hand on his cheek with a fond smile. He covered her hand with his own and closed his eyes, relishing in the warmth of her touch. 

“How is it possible that I’m seeing you?”

_ If I died there’s no way I ended up in the same place she did.  _

“The Spirit Realm.”

“So, I  _ am  _ dead. Where’s Rabo?”

“Well,” she began, shrugging. “Mostly, anyway. Rabo isn’t here, this is your journey, Yato, and there isn’t much time. As we speak your friends on the other side are trying desperately to save you.” 

“Hiyori…” Yato said, imagining her hunched over his lifeless body, covered up to her elbows in his blood, a fierce look of determination on her face. Sakura raised an eyebrow. 

“Hiyori? A  _ girl _ ?” She gave him a teasing look and he laughed. 

“Yes, a girl. You’d like her. A far cry more than you’d like Rabo, I imagine.” 

“Rabo made you happy, which is good enough for me, but if you’re so sure I’ll like this girl you should tell me more about her.” 

“I thought you said we were low on time,” he retorted. 

“Right, of course, follow me.” She linked her arm through his and guided him along the bank of the golden lake. “You’ll have to walk on your own, I’m afraid you’ve grown far too much to ride on my shoulders anymore.” 

“I mean, we could  _ try _ ,” Yato joked, beaming at her. She chuckled. 

“I’m afraid there are too many important things to discuss. You’ve been brought here to learn about your father, and undo what’s been done to you.” 

“What’s been done to me,” he repeated.

“Yes, what your father did.”

“A lot,” Yato muttered, tightening his grip on her arm. She squeezed his hand in return. 

“What is it that makes your father so powerful?” She asked, watching him carefully. 

“Fear,” he replied at once.

“Other than that, I mean.” 

“He’s a master of chi,” Yato tried again. 

“Sure, but there are other masters of chi, like your new master, Tenjin.” 

“How do you know about that, but not my girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend?” She repeated with a sly smile. 

“You totally ignored my question.”

She ignored him again. “What do you think makes your father different from Tenjin, in terms of the power they wield?” 

“I don’t know, I’ve never been good at chi stuff.” 

“Exactly! A long, long time ago there was a boy who lost everything. He became angry at the world and the people in it, and he decided that he would exact his vengeance by conquering them.”

“Was this boy my dad? Because he sounds like my dad.” 

“Yes, Yato, but have you forgotten what I told you about interrupting?” 

“Sorry.” 

“Long ago your father was attacked and nearly killed. He stumbled through the woods for days, expecting to find only his doom, but instead finding a hidden village of people with mysterious powers. When he stumbled out of the trees and collapsed the kind villagers used their power, chi, to save him. Your father was enthralled by it, seeing an opportunity for revenge, and begged the villagers to teach him. They obliged, knowing not of his evil. Their kindness that day started a chain of events that ends with you and I, here.” 

“Okay… how does knowing how he discovered chi help me? I’m mostly dead, remember?” 

“I distinctly remember having told you to be more patient, more than once.” 

“You and everyone else.” She gave him a stern look. “Sorry.” 

“If you want to stop your father’s future you must first understand his past. Your father hid his malice from the villagers, and they taught him how to give chi to another in order to revitalize and heal, but your father saw what could be given could also be taken away.”

A large temple came into view before them, but Yato ignored it in favor of the dots connecting in his mind. 

“Once he learned everything he could from the villagers he left and began a reign of terror across the land, using his newfound ability to lay waste to everything in his path. Your father rode at the helm of an army of chi puppets, traveling the country and collecting more and more chi to increase his power. It was many months before news of your father’s tyraid reached the secluded village where he had mastered chi. Their leader felt responsible for your father’s crimes and resolved to defeat him herself. She tracked him down and battled him for three days and nights before she finally managed to banish him to the spirit realm.” 

“Wait, what?”

* * *

Cool wind rustled Hiyori’s hair as she knelt over Yato’s body, wincing at every bump in the road. The wagon wasn’t moving terribly fast, too much jostling could reopen Yato’s barely sealed wounds and cost him blood he couldn’t afford to lose. They would have to make camp soon, though, the sun had set several hours ago. Hiyori could see Yato’s furrowed brow in the light of Yukine’s lantern and she wondered what he was dreaming about, or if he was dreaming at all. She had spoken softly to him a few times but received no indication that he could hear her. She kept placing her hand gently on his chest to feel his heartbeat and reassure herself that he was still alive. 

Every second that he held on brought her more hope that, against all reason, Yato was going to pull through. By this time tomorrow, they would be at the Palace of the Rising Sun and Tenjin could potentially use chi to save him. Then he and Bishamon would have someplace warm and safe to convalesce. She turned now to Bishamon and placed a hand over her brow, Bishamon’s eyes opened and she smiled weakly at Hiyori. 

“Sorry, did I wake you?” 

“No, I was already awake. We’re hitting every bump in the road I’m sure of it.” 

“I’m sorry, I wish there were a better way.” 

“Don’t worry about it, I’m out of the woods, I can handle a bumpy road. Him, though,” she cast a concerned look at Yato’s ghostly pale form. 

“I know, I’m so worried, but he hasn’t died yet, and that has to be a good sign, right?” 

Bishamon nodded. “We’ll see,” she closed her eyes again and Hiyori turned away from her, hoping she would get the rest she needed. At the sound of their voices Yukine approached the side of the cart, peering at Yato. 

“How’s Yato?” He asked quietly.

“The same. His wounds have stopped bleeding and now there’s nothing to do but wait. How are  _ you _ ? You were injured while fighting Nora.” 

“I’m fine, my wounds will keep until we stop for the night. It won’t be long now.” 

“And the rest of you?” She asked, lifting her voice. She felt bad for not tending to them before they set out, but they’d been in such a rush.

“If we were going to drop dead, we would have by now, kiddo,” Daikoku said. “You just focus on keeping our Dragon Warrior alive.” Hiyori nodded and cast her gaze to the dark horizon. 

“We should probably stop soon anyway, Kazuma. Will you look for somewhere to make camp?” 

He didn’t reply, but she was sure he heard her, so she didn’t repeat herself. Sure enough, ten minutes later they came across an old firepit and Kazuma directed the horse off the road. The jostling of leaving the beaten path stirred Bishamon, who tried to sit only to be held down by Hiyori.

Yukine started the fire while the rest of them unloaded silently. There was nothing to do but tuck blankets around Yato, moving him would risk opening his many wounds again. Hiyori thanked the stars that she had thought to pack her medical kit in her go-bag as she looked over the rest of the Six’s wounds. 

“These are all serious!” She protested after her third patient guiltily showed her the wounds they’d been hiding. 

“Yeah, but it’s not a knife to the heart! You had your hands full!”

“It’s far from the worst ass-kicking any of us have had, well, maybe other than Yato,” Kazuma piped up, speaking for the first time since they’d set out. His re-entrance into the conversation might have had something to do with Bishamon’s head resting in his lap, her eyes open and aware. 

“I don’t know, I’ve felt his wrist,” Kofuku said, smiling with relief at the broken tension, “I wouldn’t be surprised if that wasn’t actually his worst ass-kicking, and the crazy cafe lady was just the worst one he could tell us without clueing us in on his identity.”

“You’re probably right,” Hiyori said, remembering the patchwork of scars on his chest and back. 

“Besides, I don’t think this qualifies as an ass-kicking. Yato won his fight. Aren’t ass-kickings more one-sided?” Yukine proposed. 

“I don’t know, I got some good hits on some of those mobsters,” Kazuma replied. 

“Yeah, but you were also beaten into unconsciousness. Yato killed Rabo  _ then  _ was taken out by a stray knife. If anything, this was an accident,” Bishamon argued. “I think Yukine is right, an ass-kicking is when you’ve been thoroughly and one-sidedly bested.” 

“Not just bested, though, I think cruel and excessive damage needs to be done,” Hiyori posed, “like when the dogs ate me alive or that lady broke all of Yato’s bones.”

“Yeah, like, you need to be  _ beaten _ and not just  _ beaten _ ,” Kofuku said, “those are the same word, but they sound different in my head.” 

“No, I know what you mean,” Yukine said. 

“It wasn’t even a competition,” Daikoku added. 

“Yes!” The others cried. 

“You guys are saying we’re more battle-worn than beaten.”

“I would say so,” Bishamon replied, “the only survivor on the other side was Yato’s sister and he thinks there’s still hope for her so that’s for the best.” 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to have to tell him she was gone on top of everything else.” 

Yukine’s stomach growled loudly. 

“Man, I wish he were awake right now, he could probably whip up something edible from the rocks or something.” 

“Too bad I only know medicinal plants and not edible ones,” Hiyori thought aloud, glancing at where Yato still lay in the cart. When she got up to check his temperature, he was unexpectedly warm. Not feverish, just warmer than someone who had lost as much blood as he had any right to be. It was weird, but not alarming, so she dismissed it and returned to the fire.

* * *

Sakura blew through Yato’s interruption, continuing with her story. 

“Once your father got here his anger and hatred only grew, festering like an infection. As the ages passed him by, he formed a plan. He battled and defeated all the masters here, stealing their chi and using it to force open a gate into the mortal realm. When he returned, he began a new reign of terror. He became known as the ‘Sorcerer’ and he rebuilt his army of Phantoms. However, there is more than one way to control someone with chi. Something that you’re painfully familiar with, I believe.” 

Yato’s feet stalled and he gulped, looking at the ground. 

“Sakura, I-” 

“You don’t need to apologize, Yato. Killing me wasn’t your decision. Even now, if I could go back and do it again, I wouldn’t change a thing. No matter how much time passes or how old you get, I would always die for you.” An agonized whine escaped his throat and he threw himself at her, wrapping her in his arms and burying his face in her chest. 

“It’s all my fault! If I had never run away- if you had never found me-”

“Then I would have missed out on the greatest blessing of my life. Yato, I loved you more than anything,” she said, stroking his hair. 

“I love you so much, Sakura. I would do anything to undo what I did.” 

“You can’t undo the past, Yato, but you can ensure that my sacrifice wasn’t made in vain.” 

“I can’t beat him,” Yato whispered. 

“You’re right. As you are now you can’t beat him, he made sure of that.”

“What do you mean?”

“As I said before, there is more than one way to control someone through their chi. Your father pioneered a terrible way to steal all but the smallest bit of someone’s chi so they would still have free will, but could also be controlled with minimal effort. Then he placed a spell on you to stop others from taking you from him.” Yato pulled away from Sakura a bit. 

“So Kazuma was right-” 

“Yes. The reason you are unable to resist your father when he takes control of you is because he has stolen your ability to do so.”

“So… what? We just need to find someone else to be the Dragon Warrior?” Sakura giggled a little at his new title. 

“Is that what they’re calling you now, little rabbit? Well, I can’t say it doesn’t fit. And no, you will be the one to defeat your father.”

“But you said yourself, I can’t resist him.”

“ _ Patience,  _ little one.” 

“Grown man,” Yato muttered. 

“That is why you’ve been brought here, to see the leader of the village I told you about. She received a message from the universe that one day the man who could defeat her nemesis would need her help, so she sealed herself away where your father couldn’t get to her to await your arrival.” 

“Is this… her house?” Yato asked, pointing at the temple.

“Yes, and  _ behave _ . She’s going to help you so you should show her some respect.” And though Sakura wasn’t  _ physically  _ pointing a stern finger in his face he couldn’t help but feel like she was pointing a stern finger in her heart. 

“Okay, I’ll be good!”

“You had better.” 

Feeling distinctly scolded, Yato accompanied Sakura up the stairs and together they opened the doors to meet Yato’s fate. 

They entered a large hall that’s simple beauty spoke of good taste and humility. Unlike a certain stone green room that shall remain unnamed. Yato’s eyes followed the _ wooden _ walls to the end of the room and the figure kneeling before the altar of candles. 

When they’d crossed the room, the girl turned to face them and Yato couldn’t control his outburst. 

“But- you’re the same age as my kid!”

“Your  _ kid? _ ” Sakura asked, so surprised that she forgot to be mad that the literal first words out of his mouth had been rude. 

“Oh, well, he’s not like my  _ kid  _ kid, he’s just a boy I promised I’d take care of. He’d be really mad if I called him my kid to his face, in fact.” She gave him a look that said  _ you’re on thin fucking ice _ but turned back to the young woman. 

“Amaterasu, this is Yato. He’s the son of the Sorcerer.” 

“How unfortunate for him.”

“You’re telling me,” Yato replied. Sakura pinched the back of his hand and he shot her an annoyed look.  _ She started it! _

Amaterasu surveyed him critically for a moment before extending a hand towards Yato’s forehead. He flinched back warily. Sakura nudged him forward with her shoulder and smiled reassuringly when he cast her an unsure look. He relaxed a bit, trusting she would never allow him to be harmed, though he did pull her a little closer for comfort as Amaterasu placed her hand on his forehead and closed her eyes. 

He side-eyed Sakura as Amaterasu’s hand started to glow, but Sakura smiled at him as if nothing unusual was happening. Yato gulped and remained still, wary of receiving another warning pinch from his mother. Several seconds passed before Amaterasu’s eyes snapped open and Yato jumped, startling Sakura. 

“He’s done quite a number on you. I will be able to undo the spells, but I will have to break them all at once. Their magic is wrapped up and intermingled with one another. It seems there are a number of memories that you will get back as well, and once the spells are broken you will be able to begin your training in chi.” 

_ What have I been doing up until now then,  _ he thought bitterly, remembering the many hours of exhausting mental training he’d endured until this point. 

The thought was cut off when Amaterasu replaced her hand on Yato’s forehead, this time glowing so brightly Yato was forced to close his eyes as she began chanting something in a language that Yato did not understand.

* * *

Hiyori shifted closer to Yato, mindful of his wounds. Yukine slumbered on his other side, begrudgingly contributing to the warmth huddle. The blankets in their packs were woefully inadequate against the cold, so they were forced to shelter each other from the wind. Yukine and Hiyori had climbed into the cart on either side of Yato, Kazuma cradled Bishamon close, and Daikoku had engulfed Kofuku in his arms. 

Hiyori sighed, unable to sleep. She glanced up to check on Yato by the firelight and bolted upright, shouting. 

“What the hell?” She reached over and slapped Yukine on the shoulder, eyes never leaving Yato. “Yukine wake up and tell me I’m not dreaming!” He grumbled and looked around blearily, sitting up in alarm when he spotted the bizarre thing going on on Yato’s face. 

“You guys! Get up! Yato is glowing!” Yukine cried, staring in disbelief at his unconscious friend. 

Hiyori and Yukine had thrown back the blanket when they sat up, revealing the same golden glow filtering through the bandages on Yato’s chest wound. The others stirred and hobbled to the cart, exclaiming at the sight of their mostly dead companion. 

“It looks like… a handprint,” Kazuma said, “It feels like chi, but Yato doesn’t have any?”

“Maybe nearly dying triggered it somehow?” 

“I’ve never heard of anything like that before, but I suppose it’s possible.” 

“Come on, he’s a God of Calamity, this can’t be the only time he’s nearly died,” Bishamon said, dragging herself over to observe the two glowing hand shaped spots on Yato’s skin as the horizon started to gray with the impending sunrise. 

A single tear slipped from Yato’s eye.

* * *

Somewhere deep in his mind, Yato felt a deep discomfort followed by a painful shattering before he was overwhelmed with dozens of memories that he never wanted. His mind’s eye was awash with a sea of blood and gore, bombarding him with massacres and murders alongside things he hadn’t been meant to hear and even foggy memories of the raid where his father had snatched him. 

The memory that stood out from the rest though, that twisted the dagger embedded in his ruined heart, was the image of Sakura dying at his feet, speaking words his father had stolen as her life pooled around her, blood trickling from her mouth. 

_ “Yato you are kind, he cannot take that. You are a good boy and I love you. I forgive you.”  _

Tears fell from eyes that could see only pain, but as suddenly as the tide of memories came, they receded, leaving him trembling and weak at the knees. Yato collapsed against Sakura and she eased him to the ground, whispering comforting words while he recovered from the torment in his mind, burying his face in her shoulder and letting out a piteous whine. 

“It’s okay, I’m here. It’s all over now.” 

He clung to her like a life raft, focusing only on the steady circles she was rubbing on his back while he tried to slow his breathing. After several minutes of broken sobbing and quiet whimpering he calmed enough to look up at Amaterasu, whose face remained impassive. 

“Hold out your hand, Dragon Warrior,” he did as she asked, fingers still shaking. “Now, concentrate on focusing your energy in your palm.”

He’d done this exercise a hundred times to no avail, but he did as he was told anyway, thinking his mother was in a prime pinching position should he misbehave. The palm of his hand started glowing at once and he recoiled in shock, eyes widening. Yato turned to Sakura and saw her grinning proudly. 

“I knew you could do it.” 

Yato let the chi fade and looked to Amaterasu, memories of things he’d done both willingly and unwillingly fresh in his mind. 

“So, how do I defeat my father?” 

“There is a spell that banishes the target into the Spirit Realm. When combined with the same spell your father used to steal your chi you can banish him here, and he will be powerless.” 

“Teach it to me.” 

In lieu of actual lessons like Kazuma had been giving him for months now she pressed a finger to his forehead and implanted the knowledge in his brain. Yato blinked, shaking his head against the odd sensation. Without waiting for him to adjust Amaterasu began speaking again. 

“Your life is in grave peril, the wounds you received are severe, but your mother and I can heal you and save your life before we send you back to the world of the living.” She reached out to touch his chest and he reeled back, pressing into Sakura. 

“Wait!” He cried, turning quickly to embrace Sakura, spilling out all the words he’d been desperate to say for his entire life. “Thank you for everything, mom. You were amazing. You showed me what it was like to be loved and I promise I’m going to make you proud. I love you so much.” 

“Silly boy,” Sakura said, sniffing, returning his tight embrace. “I’m already so proud of you. I love  _ you  _ so much.” 

Yato kissed his mother on the forehead and she pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose before they embraced once more, leaning their foreheads together in a final goodbye. 

“Okay,” Yato said, not opening his eyes. “I’m ready.” 

Yato felt Amaterasu laid her hand in the center of his back while his mother placed her hand over his heart, other hand squeezing his shoulder reassuringly. He pressed closer, unwilling to leave the comfort of her arms but knowing he had to go. As the golden light engulfed him he opened his eyes so that the last thing he saw was his mother’s loving gaze.

* * *

Yato was glowing even brighter now in the blushing light of dawn, though the glow from his head had faded and the glow seeping from underneath his bandages was significant. All at once, the light winked out and Yato’s eyes snapped open. He gasped loudly, startling everyone around him. 

“Sakura!” He said, straining for a moment to sit up before collapsing into unconsciousness. 

“Well, that was… certainly something,” Yukine said. 

“What the  _ hell  _ is going on with him?” Bishamon asked. 

Hiyori cautiously reached out and placed a hand over his heart, both surprised and relieved that its beat was much stronger than it had been before, his breathing much deeper and his face more relaxed. 

“What  _ was  _ that?” 

Working on a hunch, Hiyori carefully peeled back the bandages and gaped when she saw the wound over his heart was nearly gone.

“He’s healed!” 

“Chi healing?” Kazuma asked. There was a long and surprised silence before he spoke again. “I think the only thing left to do is to get to the Palace of the Rising Sun and ask Tenjin what he thinks about all this.” 

“Maybe Yato will wake up again and  _ he  _ will know,” Yukine suggested, “he opened his eyes and said something.”

“Yeah, Sakura, does it mean anything to any of you?” Kofuku asked, looking around the circle. Everyone shook their heads. 

“No, it could be anything.” 

“Well, he’s alive, that’s what’s most important,” Yukine said. 

They all nodded and Kazuma left to retrieve the horse while Daikoku put out the fire so they could be on their way.

* * *

Thankfully, the Palace of the Rising Sun was  _ not  _ at the top of like a million stairs. When they arrived, the battle worn Striking Six were relieved to find that they could bring their cart of injured friends right up to the open gate. 

“We are the Striking Six and Dragon Warrior from the Jade Palace,” Hiyori said to one of the guards. “We are all injured and in need of shelter, can you show us to the medical chambers then notify Master Tenjin of our arrival?” The guards nodded. 

“Of course, you can follow me,” said one. 

Bishamon was well enough to be carried on Kazuma’s back, and Yato scooped into Daikoku’s arms. So, the group followed her through the halls of the palace to the medical quarters, where they were left to their privacy. They promptly collapsed with exhaustion. Bishamon slid off Kazuma’s back and Daikoku set Yato down carefully while Hiyori rummaged through the cabinets, too impatient to wait for the palace medic. 

She spent the next ten minutes brewing tea to flush out poison and changing bandages while Yukine tended to Yato. Kofuku and Daikoku had even started unwrapping each other’s bandages when the door opened and Masters Takemikazuchi and Kiun entered the room, wearing welcoming smiles. 

“It’s good to see you all again, though I wish it were under better circumstances, I see the guards didn’t exaggerate when they said that you look really rough.”

“Nice to see you too, Take,” Bishamon said, voice still weak. 

“We’ve seen some shit,” Yukine gritted out, wrestling with Yato’s unconscious form. He’d been trying to hold Yato up with one hand and clean the wound on his back with the other, and it was not going well. Yato’s head lolled back and bumped into Yukine everytime he moved. “Can someone  _ help me _ ? This idiot weighs a ton.” 

“Is that the Dragon Warrior?” Take asked, taking a step forward, “Master Tenjin has been telling us about him-” he peered into Yato’s sleeping face, then gasped. Furious recognition stormed his features and several things happened at once. 

Takemikazuchi drew his sword, spurring Hiyori into jumping for her naginata and Yukine into dropping Yato and leaping straight for Take. However, his feet got tangled in Yato’s discarded bandages and he tripped, tumbling face-first into the unsuspecting Kiun’s chest, dragging them both to the ground. Bishamon leaped to her feet much too quickly and collapsed at once, coughing, into Kazuma’s arms. Daikoku and Kofuku both attempted to stand but git tangled in their half-shed clothing, wounds only half wrapped, and were trapped in awkward half crouches. 

Yato thudded to the ground, unsupported, and slept on like nothing happened. 

Before Take could take a second step the tip of Hiyori’s naginata pricked the underside of his chin, though she had landed in a less than graceful half-kneel at his feet. 

“What is the meaning of this!” He demanded, mindful of the blade at his throat. “You’ve brought a God of Calamity into our home! That’s the Hollow, Yaboku!” Behind him Tenjin stepped into the room, looking around at the precarious state of things with some incredulity. 

“ _ We know _ ,” Kazuma said dryly, “Yato is a nickname.” 

“ _ A nickname _ ? You gave a  _ nickname _ to a God of Calamity?” 

“He came with the nickname!” Yukine said, struggling with Kiun to get to his feet.

“Yato is the Dragon Warrior,” Kofuku offered. 

“The Dragon Warrior? He’s the  _ Hollow _ !”

“He’s an idiot is what he is,” Bishamon hissed. Hiyori shot her a dirty look.  _ You’re not helping.  _ Take looked incredulous, then turned to Tenjin. 

“You’re telling me the Dragon Warrior you’ve been speaking of has been a God of Calamity this  _ whole time _ ?”

“Yup.”

“And you didn’t think the fact that he’s the Hollow was relevant?” 

“Nope.” 

“Explain why I shouldn’t call the guards and have him executed at once.” 

“Because he’s asleep and that would be mean!” Yukine protested, finally extricating himself from Kiun none too gracefully. 

“Yato is one of us!” Kofuku said. 

“He’s a good kid,” Daikoku growled. 

“And he’s  _ not  _ a God of Calamity anymore,” Kazuma finished. 

“Yato came to the Valley of Peace as a  _ refugee _ before he was chosen as the Dragon Warrior! He was  _ hiding  _ from the Sorcerer,” Hiyori said, prodding Take’s throat with her blade to remind him of his position. 

“He agreed to help us kill the sorcerer, he hates him more than anyone,” Yukine added. 

“He’s not a threat!”

“Well, he’s a  _ big  _ threat, just not to any of us,” Tenjin amended. “You’ll see when he wakes up, he’s a sweet person. What happened to all of you, by the way? You look like crap.” 

“The Gods of Calamity showed up with an army of Phantoms to take Yato back. Kugaha and Rabo are dead, Nora is alright though,” Hiyori told him. Tenjin looked grim. 

“Does Yato know about Rabo yet?” 

Hiyori gave him a tragic look that communicated everything he needed to know. 

“I see,” Tenjin said before turning to Take and Kiun. “I ask that you host us while my team recovers from their injuries.” Takemikazuchi nodded, eyes on the knife at his throat, aware that it wasn’t actually a request. 

“Oh, and I need one more favor, Take,” Hiyori interjected, overtaken by a grand idea. 

Take’s face said he couldn’t  _ believe _ she was asking for another favor, but perhaps with her naginata at his throat, this was another demand masquerading as a question.

* * *

When Yato cracked his eyes open he was half relieved and half disappointed to find himself back in the mortal realm. He was alive, but he wouldn’t be able to see Sakura anymore. Or Rabo. 

Hiyori was bent over him, tending to the wound in his side, brow furrowed in concentration. Her eyes were glowing in the way they did when the world fell away, and she saw only what was right in front of her. He smiled softly and tried to surprise her by taking her hand, but the second he moved all his injuries started screaming for his attention and he groaned. 

Hiyori’s eyes snapped to his face and relief flooded her features. 

“Yato! You’re awake!” 

“And alive apparently.” 

“We had our doubts,” she said grimly. 

“Believe me, so did I. Where are we?” 

“The Palace of the Rising Sun,” Yato’s face sharpened with alarm but he remained silent. “We fled here after the attack.” 

Yato’s eyes darkened with despair. “Rabo…” 

Hiyori nodded. “Yato I’m so sorry. We couldn’t bring him with us. We put him in the training hall out of the elements, but we didn’t have time for anything else, you were dying. Tenjin has sent word back to the nearby villages for him to be buried, but we evacuated the valley and-” 

“Thank you. I understand you did the best you could. You saved me.” She reached out and brushed the hair off his bandaged forehead. 

“Master Takemikazuchi recognized you. Do you remember him?” Of course, she didn’t know he’d regained his memories yet, not that it mattered. His memories of Take had never been stolen. 

“Yeah, I killed one of his friends and gave him a nasty scar, this is gonna be a fun reunion. Take was the only person to ever unmask me and live.”

“He asked to be alerted the second that you woke up, but Take isn’t the boss of me. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Her face took on a mischievous and excited gleam. “But on to more important matters, did you know the Palace of the Rising Sun has an amazing view of the ocean?” 

“I’ve heard that. I’ve never actually seen the ocean before,” he said morosely.

“I thought as much,” she said, standing. She crossed the room and placed a hand on the rice paper door, smiling broadly, “so I persuaded them to give you this room to cheer you up.” 

Without further ado, Hiyori slid opened the door and Yato gasped. 

Yato tried to sit up and regretted it immediately. He collapsed back onto the pillow but forced his eyes open to gaze out upon the ocean and the light of the sun setting over the waves, mesmerized. 

“It’s beautiful, and there’s so  _ much  _ of it.”

Hiyori returned to his side, still grinning. “That’s where the pirates are,” she whispered. 

Yato cast her a glowing look. “I’m going to find them and join them!” 

“You should become their commander! You’d be a great pirate captain!”

“I totally would!”

He tried to sit up again and flinched. Hiyori pressed a hand sternly against his shoulder. 

“You nearly died! Even though you somehow managed to heal your fatal wound you still have a  _ lot  _ more less fatal wounds.” He gave her a long-confused look before his expression cleared. 

“Oh, you mean what Sakura did. I didn’t heal myself, that was Sakura and Amaterasu.” 

“Amaterasu? Yato, she died years ago. We were the only people around.”

“No, when I was dead I went to the Spirit Realm.”

“What?” She asked, alarmed, and Yato realized that perhaps some context for that statement was required. 

“I died, well mostly at least. It’s a long story. I went to the Spirit Realm and saw my- someone I used to know. She took me to see someone I didn’t know, Amaterasu, and the two of them healed my wound. They also undid the spells my Father put on me, look.” 

Yato lifted his hand with much difficulty and focused hard, manifesting chi in his hand, half smiling with relief when he actually managed to produce the golden light. 

“Holy shit! Yato, you’re doing it! You’re using chi! I have to get the others-” 

“Can you wait on that? I’m not feeling great right now, and I’d rather not have to deal with Takemikazuchi busting in here screaming.” 

“Good point.” She paused for a beat, “Wait, you said spells, plural.”

“Yeah, my dad used a spell to stop me from using chi.” 

“That’s not what I meant. Your memories-” 

“Back. All of them,” he said, eyes going distant and hollow. 

“How bad?”

“All bad. A few massacres and a few cold-blooded murders, nothing unusual.” 

“It doesn’t change anything; you can still be better,” she insisted, voice firm. 

Yato turned hopeless eyes on her and she took his hand, stroking comforting circles with her thumb as a tear slipped out of his eye. 

“There were so many, Hiyori, so many that I didn’t know about.” 

She squeezed his hand, pressing his knuckles to her lips. “Now you can end all that, all the pain and suffering, and maybe even save your sister. All of that is in the past.” 

Yato nodded. “Sakura was there…” he said quietly. “Waiting for me.” 

“Who is Sakura?” Hiyori asked. 

Yato sighed, his eyes faded from glowing remorse to flat emptiness, and he began to tell Sakura’s story.

* * *

_ Yaboku stumbled along, wincing with every step as the sharp edges of the forest dug into his flesh, his stomach turning in on itself with hunger. His arms were weak and his legs were heavy; he wasn’t sure how much farther he was going to make it, only that he was an idiot for doing this.  _

_ He never should have run away. Father was right, Yaboku could never survive without him and now he was going to die alone and scared in the jungle because he couldn’t remember the way home. At least his father wouldn’t be able to hurt him anymore. If he were dead, he’d be safe from harm.  _

_ A twig snapped and Yaboku panicked, imagining his father just out of sight, hunting him. His young mind, clouded with hunger and exhaustion, didn’t stop to think that father was far too skilled to ever give himself away like that. He would be as silent as a snake and twice as deadly, and Yaboku would never see him coming.  _

_ He scuttled underneath a bush, shuddering as twigs raked down his skin like bugs crawling down his spine. A few more twigs cracked, and a pair of feet came into view. Yaboku squirmed around to keep the feet in sight as they crossed his field of vision, not realizing that he was shaking the entire shrub very conspicuously.  _

_ A girl crouched and peered into the bush curiously, surprising Yato. It hadn’t been his dad after all.  _

_ “Oh! Hello there,” she said, “Is everything okay?” Yaboku didn’t respond, just stared with wide terrified eyes. His stomach growled loudly, and the corners of her mouth twitched upwards. “I have food.”  _

_ The lure of potential sustenance proved far too great for little Yaboku’s resolve and he crawled cautiously out of the shrub, crouching on the balls of his feet. He reached out a single expectant hand and the girl chuckled, setting her basket beneath them.  _

_ “You can have as much as you want, you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”  _

_ While he ate Yaboku watched the girl watch him, trying to remember all the things his father told him about strangers. ‘They’re bad and they will hurt you.’ But this girl had fed him. If she wanted to hurt him, she could have just let him starve to death. Giving him food was… nice. Her smile was kind and she was really pretty, and he liked the pink flowers she had tucked behind her ear.  _

_ “My name is Tamonone,” she offered.  _

_ “Tamona,” he tried. She smiled sweetly.  _

_ “Ta-mo-no-ne.” _

_ “Tamane.” _

_ “Ta-ma-no-ne” _

_ “To-ma-toe.”  _

_ She erupted into a fit of giggles and Yaboku’s face flushed. _

_ “Okay, I guess it’s a little hard. Why don’t you consider calling me something easier?”  _

_ “Sakura,” he said, pointing at the flowers behind her ear. She pulled the flowers, that were definitely not sakura, out from behind her ear and examined them.  _

_ “Uh… yeah! Sakura. What’s your name?”  _

_ The little boy tensed and shook his head, backing away. In his mind Father’s voice told him: “Never say your name to anyone. It’s very important.”  _

_ “Will you tell me your name?” Yaboku shook his head. She looked puzzled, “Why not? I won’t hurt you I promise. I just want to help you find your parents.”  _

_ Yaboku shook his head violently and pushed away from her, scuttling over the ground until his back hit the bush.  _

_ “Or not! We don’t have to find your parents if you don’t want to! But, please, tell me your name. I want to help you.”  _

_ She gave him a comforting smile and Yaboku found himself wanting to tell her. But he wasn’t supposed to say his name to anyone. Thinking quickly, Yaboku snatched a stick off the ground and wrote his name in the dirt, proud to have thought of a workaround. He hadn’t  _ said  _ his name he’d  _ written  _ it, which was still technically following the rule, right? _

_ “Yato?” She tried, looking up at him for confirmation.  _ Uh-oh.  _ He couldn’t correct her without breaking Father’s rules. “Is this read as Yato?” He hesitated, then nodded.  _

_ “Yato,” he repeated, testing the feel of the name. He was surprised to find he liked it.  _

_ “How did you end up here, Yato?” He stared at her with wide glowing eyes, and when it became clear that he wasn’t going to answer she sighed. “Do you want to come home with me, then?” He thought about it for a moment before nodding. Sakura smiled and extended her hand. Yato took it, returning her smile timidly. _

* * *

_ Concerned whispering flooded the marker as they passed. Yaboku- now Yato- squirmed uncomfortably in Sakura’s grip.  _

_ “Snowfall Village isn’t far from here.”  _

_ “And did you hear about the boy that the Sorcerer brings with him? They say the child kills as well as any grown man. How horrible, the Sorcerer with an evil child like that, not that a child of that man could be anything else.”  _

_ Yato pressed closer to Sakura’s skirt, squeezing her hand.  _

_ “Don’t worry, Yato, the Sorcerer has no reason to invade such a small village like ours. Nothing bad is going to happen to you here.”  _

_ But… Father always said they were helping people. Was he the bad thing that people needed to be protected from? Was he  _ really  _ a demon child?”  _

_ “Hey, Tamonone, where’d you get that kid from?” A gruff looking man called from his shopfront. Sakura turned to him as Yato scurried to hide behind her, away from the stranger’s curious gaze.  _

_ “I found him abandoned in the woods, starving to death. I don’t think he has a family, so I decided he’s going to live with me.”  _

_ “Of course you did, you’re too kind for your own good, girl.” _

_ “Not too kind for his own good, though,” she said, gesturing to where Yato was trying hard to not be seen by a single stranger and only succeeding in drawing more attention to himself. “He’s a bit shy,” she said to the old ladies cooing over him.  _

_ “What a precious son you’ve adopted, you should let him stay with us grannies sometimes, you know.”  _

_ Sakura chuckled. “Maybe once he’s gotten more used to being around people.”  _

_ When she got him home she stripped off his clothes and used a damp cloth to wipe away the grime he’d accumulated during his flight through the forest, and once the dirt was gone she couldn’t miss the bruises and scars that littered his skin.  _

_ “Yato, who did this to you?” She asked, shaking voice soft, but severe.  _

_ “...my dad. I was bad so he punished me.”  _

_ Yato didn’t understand the look she was giving him, or the wetness around her eyes; nor did he understand why she pulled him into a very tight hug, but he liked hugs, so he hugged her back.  _

_ “It’s okay, you’re safe now. I won’t ever hit you like that. I promise.”  _

_ “Even if I’m bad?”  _

_ “Even if you’re bad. There are better ways to teach someone to behave besides hurting them.” Yato frowned. That didn’t  _ sound  _ right, but he didn’t like getting hit so he decided to let Sakura go on believing that.  _

_ They went back to his bath and Sakura let out a shriek of horror when she saw the soles of his feet, shredded to ribbons from the thorny underbrush of the forest.  _

_ “Yato, why didn’t you tell me your feet were hurting? I would have carried you!” _

_ “I’m okay, Sakura, they don’t hurt that much.”  _

_ She gave him another look that he didn’t understand and cleaned his wounds with the utmost tenderness and care, kissing the tips of his toes when she’d finished wrapping his feet with clean white bandages. Yato giggled loudly and tried to jerk his foot away but Sakura caught it between her hands and kissed his toes some more, eliciting a squeal from Yato.  _

_ “That tickles!” _

_ “Oh, so you’re ticklish, are you?” She reached up and tickled the bottom of his rib cage, drawing another squeal from Yato as he writhed around, grinning, and shrieking with laughter, unable to escape the grip of a grown-up. “I’ll only stop if you promise to be a good little boy, do you promise?”  _

_ “Yes! Yes! I promise!”  _

_ Sakura sat up, face flushed with laughter as Yato caught his breath, hiccupping slightly. “Yato you and I are going to be very good friends!” She said.  _

_ “That lady said I’m your son now, is that true?” Sakura paused thoughtfully.  _

_ “Only if you want to be.” Yato smiled and nodded. _

* * *

_ Yato woke up, cold fear shivering down his spine as Sakura slept peacefully beside him. She only had one futon, so Yato curled up at her side and fell asleep to the sound of her beating heart, comforted by the warmth of her loving arms. He’d had a dream about his father coming for him, but he snuggled closer to Sakura and pushed it away. Sakura would keep him safe just like she’d promised. He could stay here forever and be happy. _

* * *

_ Yato hopped ahead of Sakura, holding his hands in front of his chest and pretending he was a rabbit while Sakura shopped for the two of them. In the three weeks Yato had been staying with her he’d become a completely different boy, though he was still cautious of adult strangers, he’d worked up the nerve to play with kids his own age. The adults had learned to give him space until he approached them, and Sakura became sure that in time he would embrace them too. _

_ However, she  _ was  _ concerned when he flat out refused to tell her any details of his past, but she was starting to think that maybe it didn’t matter. No one had come looking for him, and though they seemed not to want him she  _ certainly  _ did.  _

_ “Stay close, little rabbit,” she called. _

_ “You know the men in the village won’t be so keen to marry even a pretty girl like you that already has a child,” an old woman said as Sakura looked over the fruits she was peddling.  _

_ “That’s okay, I don’t want to marry a man who is shallow and uncaring,” Sakura replied idly, glancing up every so often to check on Yato. “Yato! Where are you?” she called after a moment of panic when she didn’t see him, but he was just crouched down looking at a large basket. _

_ “It’s okay, Sakura, I won’t get lost!” _

_ “It scares me when I can’t see you, I worry you might get hurt.” _

_ “I won’t get hurt! I can take care of myself, and I can take care of you too!” He declared proudly, puffing out his chest. Sakura and the old woman shared a good chuckle as she took his hand and led him to the next stall. _

* * *

_ Sakura pushed Yato further behind herself as she backed away from the man with the knife. She had gotten turned around in a big, unfamiliar town and ended up in a back alley, staring down a blade and worrying about protecting Yato, who had leaped out in front of her like he wanted to fight a man three times his size. _

_ “I’ll give you all the money I have, just please don’t hurt us!” _

_ When she reached for her purse Yato darted out from behind her and snatched up a splintered plank of wood. He held it like a sword, like how one would  _ properly _ hold a sword. As she watched Yato jumped up and hit the man savagely in the head.  _

_ “You little brat!” The man shouted, rearing back to kick Yato, but by the time Sakura called out he was already gone.  _

_ He’d jumped onto a pile of garbage and used that to vault onto the man’s chest, abandoning the clunky piece of wood. With one movement he snatched the knife away and buried it in the man’s neck, backflipping off his body as it fell.  _

_ Yato turned to beam proudly at Sakura, glad to have protected her, but was struck dumb by the horror painting her features. Tears welled in his eyes as she grabbed him and dragged him out of the alley. She didn’t speak a word until they reached a shallow bank of the river and she directed him to wash the blood from his hands.  _

_ “Why did you kill that man, Yato?” She asked in a tragic whisper, looking both frightened and devastated.  _

_ “He was trying to hurt you!” Yato whined, sobbing because he didn’t understand what he’d done wrong but still got the feeling he was in trouble. _

_ “You shouldn’t have done that!”  _

_ “But he wanted to hurt you!” He hiccupped, swiping at his wet cheeks. “He had a knife! Someone who isn’t willing to be killed shouldn’t threaten to kill someone else,” he growled. Sakura recoiled from the sudden ice in his tone.  _

_ “Yato listen to me. Listen carefully,” and he did, frightened by the frantic tone in her voice. “You must never do that again. Killing someone is a grave sin, it’s not something to do lightly. There is nothing more precious than human life, do you understand?” Yato nodded, wide eyed, feeling like he’d done something horrible and wrong.  _

_ He must have done, or Sakura wouldn’t be looking at him like that when he’d only ever seen her smile. More tears spilled down his face as he imagined that she must hate him now that she knew what a bad boy he was. What had that person said on his first day with Sakura? Demon child. Now she would realize that’s what he was, and she would send him away and he would be alone again. He started to sob harder, overwhelmed by the fear, and grief, and guilt, and above all else the surety that Sakura wouldn’t love him anymore if she knew who he was. _

_ “I’m sorry!” He cried, “please don’t hate me!” _

_ “Hate you?” She repeated, quietly, surprised by the outburst.  _

_ “I won’t do it again, please don’t send me away! I’m sorry!” Her lips parted with shock before she wrapped Yato up in her arms and cradled him close.  _

_ “I could never hate you, Yato, no matter what you’ve done. I love you more than anything. I would never abandon you. I love you, no matter what you do.”  _

_ Her mind raced as she held him close and comforted him. Where had he learned to do that? Her stomach sank, it must have something to do with why he refused to talk about his past. He hadn’t fought like a child- he’d fought like a practiced killer.  _

_ Who exactly were his parents? _

* * *

_ Yato laughed wildly as Sakura ran around, carrying him or her shoulders.  _

_ “Whoohoo! You’re flying!” _

_ Yato nearly lost his balance and grabbed onto her face gracelessly, poking her in the eye and catching a finger in her left nostril. She spluttered and righted his grip, blinking rapidly.  _

_ “Sorry, Mom,” Yato said. Sakura smiled at the slight hesitation in his voice. It was the first time he’d called her that. She couldn’t help but wonder how long he’d been trying to build up the courage to do it. _

_ “It’s alright, son. It was an accident.” He wrapped his arms tightly around her neck and she kissed his forearm, the only part of him she was able to reach. _

* * *

_ Yato liked being held. Most boys his age were embarrassed and wanted to walk on their own, but Sakura suspected whoever had Yato before her hadn’t shown him much affection. As often as he walked by her side and held her hand he asked to be carried. He was heavier than she would ever admit to him, but she wouldn’t refuse him this. A child so sweet deserved to feel loved. Besides, he wasn’t too big for her yet. All the older women would tell her she would miss these times when he was older, so she would relish them.  _

_ At night he curled into her side, and most nights he slept peacefully, clinging to her nightclothes, and bringing a warm swelling love to her heart. _

* * *

_ Screams tore through the peaceful night and Yato was on his feet in an instant, dodging around Sakura’s attempt to keep him away from the door. He peered out and then ducked back inside, his face dark and terrifying. She thought no child should have had a life that could lead them to make a face like that.  _

_ “It’s my dad. He’s here to get me. We have to go.”  _

_ “Your...dad?” Yato nodded.  _

_ “He must have figured out where I am. We need to run away before he finds me, he’ll take me back and hurt you.” _

_ “But the villagers-” _

_ “It’s too late for them, they’re all going to die.” Sakura gasped in horror. Yato turned pleading and frantic eyes on her. “Please! Let’s go before he finds me; we still have time!” He ran to her side and started pulling her up. _

_ “Okay, okay, I’m coming!” _

_ “There’s no time to save anything, just grab your shoes!” _

_ The mat was thrown aside so hard it was torn off the doorframe and Yato spun, face hardening into savagery before falling into despair. They were too late, Father stood in the doorway, outlined against the burning village that couldn’t match the fire in his eyes. Yato threw his arms out in desperation as Sakura recoiled. She snatched him up and held him close, glaring at the man that she didn’t recognize as the Sorcerer.  _

_ “I won’t let you hurt my son!” _

_ “ _ Your  _ son?” He asked, amused. “I don’t think so. He’s  _ my  _ son, isn’t that right Yaboku?” Yato shrank closer to Sakura, though his terrified eyes lingered on Father.  _

_ “Yaboku?” Sakura whispered.  _

_ “G-go away, Dad. I don’t want to live with you anymore, you’re bad.” _

_ “ _ I’m  _ bad? I’m not the heartless woman who stole another man’s child.”  _

_ “She didn’t steal me! I ran away because you hit me! I won’t let you hurt my mom!” Yato squirmed out of Sakura’s arms and positioned himself between the two of them, a woefully inadequate guard against evil.  _

_ “It seems you’re very determined to defy me,” Father said with disinterest. He threw a sword to the ground and a familiar drowsy sensation washed over Yato.  _

_ Sakura watched the boy she loved leave. She didn’t know where he’d gone or what had come over him, but when he looked at her with hollow eyes, she caught her breath. She glanced up at the smug look on her father’s face right before Yato’s blade cut into her and she collapsed.  _

_ When she looked back up at her assailant the boy she loved was back, looking with horror between his bloody sword and her bloody body splayed out at his feet. He was too horrified even to cry, his jaw just dropped open and he shrieked her name.  _

_ “SAKURA!” _

_ “Yato, you are kind, he cannot take that. I love you no matter what,” but something changed in his eyes and she wasn’t sure he heard her. Nevertheless, she spoke her last words in the hope they could help him as the last of her life spilled from her veins. “I forgive you.” _

* * *

_ Yato refused to come out from his futon after his father whisked him back to the compound, so Nora climbed under the blankets with him, but she was only able to coax one phrase from him.  _

_ “Please call me Yato.”  _


	15. 14- Numb

Yato stared through the ceiling with eyes unfocused as the weight of his story settled in the air between them. Looking at him now Hiyori understood why Yato was called the Hollow. That gaze was empty. It had been made so through self-preservation. In order to survive the guilt, he’d scraped out his insides and made himself nothing, then attempted to fill up that nothing with bloodlust and malice. When those things faded, he was left empty and searching for a new filling, but looking at him now Hiyori wasn’t sure he’d been successful. 

She felt like she should have realized it sooner. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” she said gently. 

“It wasn’t  _ not  _ my fault, either,” he replied simply. 

There was a long silence where Yato stared at nothing and Hiyori stared at Yato. 

“She was younger then than I am now. I didn’t realize it until I saw her again, but I’m older now than she ever got to be and all I’ve ever done is kill. I’m exactly what she never wanted me to be.” 

“That’s not the only thing you’ve done, Yato. You’ve also cooked for the homeless, helped Yukine process his anger and trauma, and you brought light into the lives of the people around you.”

Yato gave her a look so wounded and vulnerable that she had to bite back tears just seeing it. 

“She would have loved you,” he whispered, a tear slipping from the corner of his eye. Hiyori brushed it away. 

“Well, then she has good taste,” Hiyori joked, earning a twitch from Yato’s mouth and a brief flash of light in his eyes. 

“She told me she was proud of me. Twice.” 

“Well, moms are like that. But for the record, I’m really proud of you too.” 

A sob wracked Yato’s weakened body, rasping out into the still silent air like barbed wire, grating at Hiyori’s heart. Throat tight, Hiyori laid down beside Yato and pulled him close, murmuring comforting words as he buried his face in her neck and curled as close to her as his injuries would permit. Yato cried until there was nothing left, then slept and did not dream.

* * *

Hiyori was sleeping peacefully by Yato’s side when he woke in the early light of dawn. He wasn’t surprised to have slept through the whole night, having literally been to hell and back. Even after hours of stillness, his wounds were complaining loudly. If he woke Hiyori she would get him some pain medicine, and she’d be furious if she found out that he’d just been lying there in pain, but she looked so peaceful, and he’d never gotten to sleep with her in his arms before. 

Technically, he still hadn’t. He was definitely the one being cradled right now. His ear was pressed against her chest, listening to the lullaby of her heartbeat with her arms wrapped protectively around him. Sighing, Yato closed his eyes again, slowing his breathing so it matched hers, hoping to nod off once again. 

It didn’t work, and eventually, he got bored. He still didn’t want to wake her, so there was nothing to do but play with his new ability and see what he’d gained from his trip to the Spirit Realm. Even after he’d managed it yesterday, Yato was surprised when he summoned a palm-full of golden light on his first try. He twiddled his fingers, admiring the little comet trails they left in the air, it really was quite beautiful, and it wasn’t long before he experimented with drawing simple shapes in the air, focusing harder to get a stronger light. 

With his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth Yato drew the letters Y + H in the air and enclosed them in a heart, smiling in satisfaction when he finished. 

With that critical task finished Yato sighed and rested his head back against Hiyori’s chest, wondering who else was awake. It was  _ boring  _ being the only one up. Yato closed his eyes and focused hard, feeling about for aura’s and trying to place them with people. There was something chaotic and disruptive a few rooms over that was  _ certainly  _ Kofuku, but he couldn’t place anyone else. It was hard in a new place, with so many new and unfamiliar people distracting him. He did, however, locate a hub of activity that, this early in the morning, was certainly the kitchen staff preparing breakfast. 

_ What I wouldn’t do for some cinnamon bread right now. _

A bit of mischief crossed his mind, as it always did, and he sat up, slowly and carefully so as to not reopen his wounds or disturb the sleeping Hiyori. He shifted until he was propped up enough to have a clear view of her face, then used his glowing chi fingers to draw a mustache and monocle on her sleeping face. Yato snickered and waited for the light to fade before drawing kitty whiskers. 

A giggle escaped him before he could stop it and he clapped a hand to his open mouth, but it was too late. Kung fu masters slept lightly. Hiyori’s eyes blinked open, focusing on his face for a moment before she realized he was awake. 

“Yato! You should be laying down! Wait, what was that light?” The light dispelled when she sat up and passed through it. She narrowed her eyes at him, unsure of what he’d done but sure he’d done something. Yato blinked innocently as she pushed him gently back onto his pillow. 

“Sleep well?” He asked, smirking. 

“Yes, I slept fine. What about you? Are you in any pain?” 

“I slept well too. I’m in a little pain, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.” 

“I’ll prepare some medicine and tea to take it with. I’ll be right back.” 

Yato called out to Hiyori when she reached the door. She turned and laughed at the glowing golden heart he’d drawn in the air before stepping out of the room, still smiling. 

Yato turned to face the open door, sighing heavily and letting his smile falter. He watched the water wash against the shore, lulled by the quiet whisper of the waves, sure that up close it would be much louder, and though he could already picture the walks he would take along it with Hiyori and Yukine, he couldn’t muster any enthusiasm for the fantasy right now. 

Yukine. 

How had Yukine fared during the fight? Yato couldn’t recall much of what the others were doing while he’d been focused on Rabo. When Hiyori got back, he would ask about the others, if Yukine was hurt and if he’d hurt Nora. In fact, he just needed a rundown of everything that happened since the Gods of Calamity showed up at the Jade Palace because all he could remember was Rabo’s flowing hair, dripping blood, and the lifeless arc of his hand falling from Yato’s robe. Yato sighed again, closing his eyes against the images. 

The door slid open and Yato’s snapped to attention, hurriedly plastering on his fake smile, expecting Hiyori. 

“Yukine!” He said, surprised. 

“Yato, you’re awake!”

“You’re alright!” Yato tried to sit up again but collapsed against his pillow, clutching his abdomen. Yukine hurried across the room and knelt at his side to check his stitches, looking concerned. 

“I wasn’t expecting you to be awake, I was going to ask Hiyori how you were doing. Where’d she go?”

“To get me some pain medicine. How are you?” 

“How am I? You nearly died!”

“Yeah, but I knew that already! What I don’t know is how  _ you _ are.” 

Yukine rolled his eyes. “I’m fine.  _ I _ didn’t get any fatal wounds. Nora and I roughed each other up, but I’ve had worse.” Yato nodded, satisfied. 

“Tell me everything that happened, I don’t remember anything outside my fight with Rabo.”

* * *

Hiyori returned just as Yukine finished his story, and she smiled to see him there. 

“Glad you’re feeling better. Yukine was hurt pretty badly,” she said, oblivious to the frantic  _ shut up  _ gestures Yukine was making at her.

“You said you were okay!” Yato cried indignantly. 

“I  _ am  _ okay! My wounds will heal long before yours.” 

Yato gave him an annoyed look but was distracted when Yukine and Hiyori worked together to prop him up with pillows so he could drink his tea. He managed to avoid groaning in pain but was not eager to repeat the experience. 

“Hiyori mentioned Take freaking out when he saw me, just how bad was it?” 

“He tried to kill you; how do you know him?” Yukine asked cautiously. 

“I killed someone he cared about and he managed to unmask me. Thank  _ God  _ I took that mission alone. If Father had found out someone unmasked me and I let them  _ live _ ,” he shuddered. 

“Do you think the others would have told on you?” Yukine asked. 

“Kugaha would have for sure. Nora might have if she was feeling mean. Remind me to thank Kazuma for killing Kugaha, by the way, I fucking hated that guy.” 

“I noticed,” Hiyori said, “you wouldn’t even look at him.” 

“Why would I look at him again? I already know what he looks like, unfortunately.” 

Yukine snorted, following Yato’s gaze out of the open door. “I can’t believe you actually managed to get them to give Yato this room.” 

“I can be very persuasive,” she replied slyly. 

“Very alluring too,” Yato said, leveling a sultry gaze at her. 

Yukine spluttered in disgust and got to his feet. “You guys are gross; I’m going to see if they have any food.” 

“I want cinnamon bread!” Yato piped up. Yukine gave him a skeptical look. 

“I doubt they just  _ happen  _ to have cinnamon bread.” 

“Make it!”

“I don’t know how!” He stepped out of the room before Yato could start spouting out a recipe, likely for the very reason that he knew that would be Yato’s next move. 

Yato spent the next few minutes enjoying the feeling of Hiyori lovingly petting his hair while he watched the ocean. Once Yukine was gone the despair and grief that he’d been distracting Yato from resurfaced, clenching around his chest in inescapable iron bands. Yato tried to fight through it, clenching his fists and taking steadying breaths, but Hiyori noticed right away. 

“How are you?  _ Really? _ ”

“Pretty bad,” Yato replied eventually. 

“You can tell me anything,” she said. “I won’t judge or hate you. Don’t think that because we’re… well, you can talk to me about him and it won’t be weird.” Yato nodded. 

“Thank you, but I really don’t want to talk about it right now. There’s something Sakura told me in the Spirit Realm that you all need to know, Tenjin included, and I think I’m up for telling the story.” Hiyori nodded. 

“I’ll go get them then.” Hiyori slipped out just as Yukine reentered the room, carrying a handful of cookies. “Don’t spoil his breakfast!” She warned. 

“Of course not, these are for me,” Yukine said. No sooner than the door was closed had Yukine passed Yato the cookies. “Breakfast isn’t ready yet. They said they’ll bring it up to you when it is, and no there isn’t any cinnamon bread, I asked.” 

Yato sighed heavily. “Whatever. Hiyori’s gone to get the others. There’s something you all need to know, and it would be easier to tell you together.” 

“What is it?”

“It’s a long story, I don’t really want to tell it twice.” 

“Okay, but like, what is it?” 

“ _ Patience _ ,” Yato hissed, quoting his mother, “is a  _ virtue _ .” 

One by one the rest of the Six filtered in and took seats by Yato’s bedside, looking confused but relieved to see Yato awake and talking, still propped up, pale but alive. Tenjin and Hiyori entered last, Tenjin taking a seat at Yato’s feet and Hiyori reclaiming her place by his head. He decided to jump right into the story. 

“So, when I was unconscious, I died a little bit-” he was interrupted by a chorus of horrified ‘ _ what’s  _ before Bishamon interjected. 

“How do you die just a little bit?” 

“I don’t know that’s just what they told me! I asked if I was dead and she said mostly!”

“But mostly is different than a little bit, so which is it?” Kofuku asked. 

“And who is ‘she’?” Kazuma added. 

“Will you guys just shut up and listen to my story?” Yato snapped. Was this how Sakura felt when he’d kept interrupting her?

They did sit and listen to his story, though not without interrupting, and Yato had to refrain from smacking all of them. Mostly because his smacking arm had been stabbed and he could hardly move it. He finally made it to the end of his story and there was an annoying lack of questions because no one had bothered to save theirs for the end. 

“I... think I’ve heard that story before?” Tenjin said. “I definitely know about Amaterasu, she’s pretty famous, but that story only faintly rings a bell. She said he caused a lot of trouble in his day?” Yato nodded. “Weird.” 

Yato gaped. He’d been sure Tenjin would know exactly what he was talking about and be able to provide some vital piece of information that would unlock the secret to defeating his father or something. But then again that was his trip to the Spirit Realm was supposed to have been. Why, then, did he still feel like he had no idea what he was doing? 

“Maybe he just wasn’t as important as he thought he was the first go around,” Kofuku suggested. 

The way Sakura had talked about it Yato had expected his father to be a very infamous legend. 

“Maybe. You’d think we’d know something about him since he was an enemy of someone so famous, but we don’t. Weird,” Kazuma said. 

No one else seemed terribly distressed by their lack of information on Father’s past.  _ I’m dreaming, right? This isn’t real. I died and this is some sort of torture.  _ But it wasn’t, and the atmosphere of the room was entirely too light for the topic of discussion. Before Yato could voice his annoyance, however, an angry voice beyond the door drew all their attention. 

“Why are you bringing food in there? He isn’t awake yet.” 

“Incoming,” Yato groaned, recognizing that voice. Already it was grating on his nerves. 

“Master Monkey asked me too,” someone replied. 

The door slammed open and Takemikazuchi strode in, looking furious when he saw the seven of them kneeling around Yato, sitting up and awake. 

“I told you to tell me when he woke up!” Take snapped, glaring around at the eight of them. 

“Well, we didn’t,” Yukine replied shortly, getting to his feet and accepting the tray from the servant. He brought it to Yato’s bedside, setting it gently over his lap before sitting down again. 

“Thank you, Yukine,” Yato said, partially because Sakura had scolded him for his manners a mere day ago and partially because he thought a God of Calamity having proper manners would annoy Takemikazuchi. 

“Yaboku-” he began nastily, but seven people cut across him at once. 

“Yato!”

Take sighed in annoyance. 

“Yato, you’ve got a lot to answer for!”

“What would that be?” Yato asked, blinking up at Take with wide innocent eyes. He barely concealed a grin at the way Take’s face twisted in annoyance as Yato took a bite of his toast. He was  _ so  _ easy to rile up. 

“Murder!”

“Oh, and  _ you’ve  _ never killed anyone,” Yato drawled. 

“I, no- that’s not what I said!” 

“Then what do I have to answer for that you don’t?” 

Yato took another bite of his toast, continuing to fix Take with his most unassuming gaze, barely concealing his glee as Take visibly blustered at the unexpected turn in conversation. 

The Striking Six were looking on with varying levels of amusement and disapproval. Yukine looked like he was trying to formulate a quip while Kofuku hid her smirk behind one of her battle fans, Kazuma raising one disapproving eyebrow across from her. 

“I never killed anyone who didn’t deserve it!”

“Who decided that they deserved to die? You?  _ That _ hardly seems like due process.” 

“WELL, YOU JUST KILLED ANYONE AND EVERYONE!” Take shouted in frustration. 

“Sure did, but at least not I’m not all high and mighty about it.”

Take looked like he was about to explode and Kazuma cut in at last. 

“Yato, eat your breakfast and stop bullying Take.” 

Yato tried to shrug but grimaced when his shoulder wound protested loudly. Take realized that Yato had been messing with him and took a deep breath to regain his composure. A young man with silver hair stepped into the room, looking around in surprise, and Yato inhaled his tea, choking and nearly knocking over his tray. Hiyori swooped in to assist him at the same time Yukine snatched Yato’s tray out of the way, saving his breakfast. The man gave him a weird look, and only when Yato saw his pale eyes did his heart start beating again. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” the young man said, looking alarmed. His voice was different too, far too soft. 

“I thought I had, who are you?” Yato rasped. 

“I’m Kiun, and you’re Yaboku, the God of Calamity.” 

“It’s Yato, the Dragon Warrior, if you don’t mind,” Yato wheezed, suppressing a smile when he remembered how Sakura had laughed when she heard the title. “Well, it’s Little Rabbit to my mom, but that’s neither here nor there.” 

That statement raised some eyebrows, both with his friends  _ and  _ the two men standing over him. None of them commented, however, no matter how curious they were about his mother. Yukine returned his tray now that it seemed Yato was no longer in danger of turning it over. 

“I should kill you where you sit!” Take snapped. 

All of the Six tried to react but no one beat Kofuku, who’s weapon had already been out. In the blink of an eye, she had Take pinned to the ground and disabled with the sharp blade of her battle fan pressed to his throat. Kazuma had gone for Kiun instead, his khanjar similarly at his neck to prevent any ideas of intervening. 

Kofuku growled out a warning with a voice like a demon, the energy in the room thrashing as her aura flared. “If you hurt Yato I will destroy  _ everything  _ you love.” 

The ocean outside grew far louder, roaring with Kofuku’s rage, and Yato realized her aura was knocking everything off balance. Take gazed with wide, frightened eyes at the terrifying face just inches from his. He gulped, mindful of the fan’s razor-sharp edges pressed against his throat. Kofuku’s hair  _ writhed  _ in the wild chaos of her aura like it was a living thing; like she was growing  _ snakes _ rather than hair. And maybe she was, because for several long seconds Take was still as stone. 

“Somehow I don’t think you’ll manage it, even with me half dead,” Yato said, feigning cockiness even though Kofuku’s terrifying display of power had set his teeth on edge. He may have not sensed many auras yet but he had a feeling that was one of the strongest ones he would ever encounter, “If you want to be nice, though, we can talk.” 

Take’s eyes shifted to the other six masters encircling Yato, all with weapons in hand, frozen halfway to attack stances, then to Kiun being held in place by Kazuma and the knife at his throat, and nodded. Kofuku climbed to her feet, aura fading. Her hair continued to writhe, less wildly now, though the ocean calmed again, and Yato finally understood why the other’s said her aura caused disasters. It was  _ insanely  _ powerful, and by the looks of her hair, she wasn’t terribly good at keeping it in check. 

Kazuma released the man who had momentarily tricked Yato into believing that he was being haunted by the ghost of his dead boyfriend. Kiun sat next to Take, looking alarmed. Take glared at Yato while he munched on his toast like every crunch was a crime. 

“Why do you all defend him?” 

“Because he’s one of us,” Kazuma replied, “Yato isn’t a God of Calamity anymore.” 

“I don’t believe it.” 

“You just haven’t gotten to know me yet. I’m an acquired taste.” 

“Really? I certainly haven’t acquired it yet,” Bishamon said, rolling her eyes. 

“That’s because you’re a crazy bitch and you  _ have  _ no taste! I mean just  _ look _ at what you’re wearing!”

“This was provided by the Palace of the Rising Sun!”

“What, did they not have any potato sacks big enough to fit your tits?” 

Rage contorted Bishamon’s face as she leaped at him, hands extended for the kill. It took Kazuma, Kofuku, and Daikoku all working together to hold her back. Daikoku’s knee accidentally landed on Yato’s abdomen and he screamed in pain, wound tearing open again. 

“Sorry, kid!”

“You deserve all your pain! I’m going to kill you!”

Most of the Striking Six were too busy either tending to Yato or struggling to keep Bishamon from murdering him to notice the look that passed between Take and Kiun as they watched the outburst. Yato was too busy whimpering in pain. 

“Would you two stop acting like idiots?” Hiyori snapped, pulling the hem of Yato’s shirt up and peering under his bandages. “Yato barely has any blood left and now you’ve reopened his wounds!”

“I’ve got plenty of blood!” Yato protested, though the weakness of his voice didn’t plead his case well. 

“Stand up without blacking out,” Hiyori challenged, arms crossed. Yato looked away, cowed. “That’s what I  _ thought _ .” She muttered something that sounded like  _ I’m surrounded by idiots.  _

Hiyori cut off his bandages and began stitching the wounds closed again, none too gently. Yato complained loudly and continuously until Hiyori snapped “I’m glad it hurts! Maybe next time you won’t pick a fight on your deathbed!” 

Yato, sufficiently scolded, crossed his arms and refused to make another peep as Hiyori finished stitching him up and tied off the thread. 

Tenjin caught a glimpse of the befuddled looks on Take and Kiun’s faces and chuckled. “They’re certainly a lively bunch, I just wish they were a bit quieter,” he said, smiling. 

“If he has enough blood to argue about having enough blood, then he has enough blood for me to kick his ass!” Bishamon shouted after being successfully wrangled back into a sitting position. 

“No one asked you about my blood!” Yato snapped. 

“Why are you two even arguing about Yato’s blood? It’s so stupid!” Yukine cried out suddenly. “You’re both idiots! This discussion is pointless!”

Kazuma stood suddenly, brow furrowed in annoyance. “I’m going to eat breakfast; I can’t listen to this any longer. Yato, you lost a lot of blood. Hiyori, Viina, don’t argue with an idiot. He’ll drag you down to his level and beat you with experience.” Kazuma stormed out, followed by Bishamon while Yato spluttered in outrage. Yukine followed the two of them, carrying Yato’s empty breakfast tray. Yato apparently wasn’t too outraged to call after him for seconds. 

“Come on, Hiyori, let’s leave the boys alone with Yato to get to know him. I’m sure they won’t try anything because I’ll be monitoring Yato’s aura to make sure he’s safe-” Tenjin said, leveling a pointed stern look at Take and Kiun. 

“You should go, all of you,” he looked from Hiyori to Kofuku and Daikoku, “Hiyori you haven’t eaten. Don’t worry, Kofuku and Tenjin scared the two of them straight.” Hiyori glanced at them and made no move to leave until Yato prodded her in the ribs, looking annoyed.

Eventually, Kofuku stood, Hiyori reluctantly following suit, and the four of them left, Kofuku caressing Take’s shoulders with her battle fan as she went in a not-so-gentle reminder to behave himself. Yato drew a chi heart in the air for Hiyori as she left. 

When the door snapped shut Yato turned cold and unfeeling eyes onto Take, delving into the killing cold for the first time since his chi was unlocked. Partially because he was curious to test his abilities and partially because his friends had made scary shows of power and he wanted too as well. 

The temperature of the room dropped several degrees, frost spreading out from the place where he sat, expanding away from him as Take’s gasp of shock billowed out from his mouth as fog. 

“I would advise against any foolish attempts on my life. I’m more than a match for you, even half-dead and filled with half my usual amount of blood.” Though the threat was undercut slightly by his word choice his point was emphasized by the amount of frost that had collected around the room. Take looked stricken, shuddering. “But now that that’s out of the way, thanks for giving me a room with a view! I’ve never seen the ocean before!” Yato let his aura fade, and the warmth came back with it, so fast that it gave Take and Kiun whiplash. 

“Uh… no problem.” 

“Master Crane… insisted,” Kiun said, shuddering. “She’s really scary.” 

Yato looked delighted. “Whoa, did she threaten you to get me in here?”

They both nodded. “She held her naginata to my throat.” 

“She’s so cool!” Yato gushed. He turned wistful eyes to the door, gazing at the water. “It’s so beautiful! It was so thoughtful of her to ask, I can’t wait till I’m well enough to go down to the beach, we can have a picnic!” His face lit up with the idea. 

“A… picnic?” Take repeated. 

“Yeah! Me, Yukine, and Hiyori! It would be so nice! Oh, what would I make…”?

“You’re not… what we expected,” Kiun ventured. 

“I get that a lot. Nobody thinks a God of Calamity would like to cook,” he yawned, knowing that’s not what he meant, and gave the two of them a long, surveying look. “So, are we good, or…” 

Take looked baffled. “Of course not! You’re a killer, no way am I just going to be okay with you!”

“But, like, are you gonna try to kill me again?” 

“I guess not.” 

“Cool, then would you get the hell out? I’m exhausted. Also, can you please remind Yukine I asked for seconds? I’m still hungry.”

* * *

It was a full week before Yato could sit up with minimal assistance, even then needing back support, and then he started crying and whining until Daikoku agreed to carry him to the training hall so he could feel included while the others trained. For some reason they shot him dirty looks when he called out encouragement and constructive criticism until Bishamon threw a rock so hard it knocked him out cold in one shot. 

“Finally, some peace and quiet,” she said before Hiyori’s outraged shouting destroyed the  _ very  _ short-lived peace. 

In the afternoons while they tried to find books about his father’s past they left him in his rooms with one of the Six because they thought he was a distraction or something. He wasn’t complaining though, he got to relax his ‘everything is alright’ mask. It was nice to just be able to grieve without all of his friends trying to overcompensate to take his mind off things, and it was far easier to confide in one sympathetic person rather than six all at once. He knew they were just worried, and he enjoyed spending time with them, but he just needed to be able to be upset without them all buzzing around trying to fix everything. Not that he would tell them that. But the one on one time was nice and if he ever got bored during the afternoons while his babysitter was reading he would practice sustaining his chi by doodling silly things in the air. 

“Take eats socks, Tenjin is dumb,” and things like that. 

But during the morning training sessions, he liked to write love notes to Hiyori in the air when he tired of shouting commentary until Kazuma confronted him. 

“You’re finally able to use chi and this is what you do with it?” He asked, crossing his arms and staring down at Yato as the words  _ I love Hiyori _ floated in the air between them. “Shouldn’t you be spending more time focused on your father?” Possessed with the overwhelming urge to make mischief, Yato let the love note dissipate and traced out another phrase. 

_ I hate my dad _ . 

“Is this what you wanted from me?”

“I think you know it isn’t.”

* * *

Takemikazuchi was under strict orders- and the threat of death- to  _ not  _ kill Yato, not that he would have had an opportunity even if he’d been planning on it. The Striking Six were very protective of the God of Calamity in his critically injured state. He was  _ never  _ alone, even in the afternoons while the Six studied and rested, one of them usually took their books into his room to read by his bedside. 

Though, as time progressed, Take was starting to realize this was less because they were trying to protect Yato from him and more because he was clingy; another thing he had never expected a God of Calamity to be. Tenjin’s words echoed in his mind:  _ you will trust him once you get to know him, _ and despite Take’s best efforts to avoid the Six, they seemed to be tripping over one another. 

Take was deep in discussion with Kiun as they passed through the training hall one evening, determinedly ignoring the Six as they trained. A long and whiny “Hey!” caught their attention and they looked down to see Yato sitting on the floor, propped up on a column, glaring. 

“You ruined my flower garden!”

“Your what?” Take asked, dumbfounded. He looked around and saw wisps of chi energy dissipating where he had apparently walked through it. 

“My flower garden, I was working on it all morning!” Yato glared at Take, then drew a hand making a rude gesture rather than just making it himself. “You should watch where you’re going! I was just about to start on the butterflies!”

“What the  _ hell  _ are you on about?” Take asked, looking around the room for help. 

“Instead of doing  _ real  _ training Yato has been using his newfound chi powers to  _ doodle _ and flirt with Hiyori,” Kazuma snapped, wearing the face of a man who’d had this argument before. 

“He was drawing a lovely little flower garden,” Hiyori interjected, attempting to derail the budding argument. “He can’t strain himself so he’s  _ practicing _ sustaining chi for long periods of time by drawing.” 

“He’s  _ goofing off _ ,” Kazuma argued, “There are proper ways to train in chi!” 

While he ranted, Yato busied himself writing something in the air, tongue out in concentration as he wrote it backward so Kazuma could read it. 

_ All work and no play makes Kazuma a stuffy head. _

“Could you at least  _ pretend _ to be an adult?” 

_ NOPE.  _

Kazuma sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose as Yato let the words fade and got to work redrawing his flower garden.

* * *

The very next day Take was baffled to walk into the gardens only to be dismissed silently by Kazuma, who was holding Yato’s hand and petting his head gently as Yato cried hard into Kazuma’s shoulder. Yato clutched his wounds, wincing with every sob, making indescribable sounds of agony. Kazuma glared when Take didn’t turn away, holding a finger to his lips, obviously hoping that Yato wouldn’t realize Take was there. 

He was still wondering on earth  _ that  _ was about when later that day he passed by The Hollow’s room and did a full stop double-take when he heard the shouted argument from within. 

“I have enough blood to cook dinner! The food here is boring!”

“YOU CAN’T EVEN STAND HOW ARE YOU GOING TO COOK? I’M SURE AS HELL NOT GOING TO HOLD YOU UP WHILE YOU DICE VEGETABLES!”

* * *

Takemikazuchi often strolled the grounds with Kiun at night, and on nights like tonight when the sky had opened and rain poured from the heavens they strolled together along the covered porches of the palace. 

He stopped dead in his tracks when he rounded a corner and saw Yato sitting there, leaning heavily on a support beam, staring out at the dark sky, rubbing idly at one of his wrists. The sadness rolled off him palpably, so strong that Take could  _ feel  _ it like physical pressure. Take wondered idly how a master like him could be so bad at concealing their emotions as Kiun cleared his throat uncomfortably to let Yato know they were there. 

Lightning flashed just as Yato turned to them and Take could have sworn he saw the glint of tear tracks in the brief light. 

“Oh, Take, Kiun,” he turned away quickly, swiping at his eyes. He  _ had  _ been crying. “Hi.” 

“Hi,” Take said cautiously, approaching. 

“Hi,” Kiun repeated. 

Yato looked back up at them, breath catching as lightning flashed again, illuminating all of them harshly. His eyes fixed on Kiun with a fascinated sort of horror. Kiun shuffled uncomfortably under the intensity of Yato’s gaze. 

“I’ve never known anyone else with hair like that,” he said, so quietly that they barely heard him over the storm, “though his was wavy.” 

“Whose?” Kiun asked, exchanging a look with Take. 

“You don’t look like him though, your face is softer, your eyes are pale, but the hair…”

“Don’t look like who?” Kiun pressed.

Yato smiled sadly. “No one now, he’s gone. I- I killed him.” 

“You’ve killed a lot of people,” Take said harshly, “you’ll have to be more specific.” Kiun smacked his hand and hissed for him to  _ be nice _ . Who the hell was mean to crying people, anyway? 

“You’re right, I have, and out of all of them he was probably the only one who deserved it, who was prepared to die. So why is he the one that haunts me the most?” Yato asked. He cast a pleading look towards the two men, but they had no idea what he might be pleading for. Forgiveness, maybe?

“Who was he?” Kiun asked again. 

“Rabo,” Yato said, voice breaking. He kept speaking, eyes falling to his anxiously twisting hands. “We were a couple. We loved each other. I know you think that I’m a monster with no feelings, a Hollow,” he laughed bitterly as he invoked his own alias, “but I  _ loved  _ him. I’ve loved him since I was fifteen; and I killed him.” Take and Kiun exchanged a surprised look. 

“You killed him?”

“You loved the Demon?” 

“He wasn’t a demon,” Yato said, the ghost of an edge in his voice. “People always said that his red eyes made him look like a demon, but I liked them. He made me feel safe… I miss him. I wish he were here.” 

“He chose to die by your hand,” Hiyori said gently, startling all three of them. They turned to see her leaning against the door, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. “He knew what he was doing when he declined your request that he defect. He wouldn’t hold it against you.” Yato sniffed loudly, turning away. 

“I do.” 

“I know you do.” She nodded to Take and Kiun as she carried the blanket out and wrapped it around Yato’s shoulders, kissing him on the cheek. “How’d you get out here?” 

“Crawled.”

“Did you open your wounds?”

“No.”

“Do you want me to stay?”

“Yes.” 

She settled next to him, wrapping him up in her arms, and looked out at the storm. Yato settled his head on her shoulder, folding into her warmth. Take and Kiun, feeling suddenly like voyeurs, walked on with no further comment. 

“I think… we may have misjudged him,” Kiun said several minutes later.

* * *

Yato was back to normal the next morning, acting like nothing was wrong and heckling his teammates during their practice. Take sought them out and sat on the other end of the training hall, watching him critically. Yato was seemingly unaware of Take’s gaze until he paused in his commentary to scrawl something in the air. Take scowled when he read it. 

_ It’s rude to stare. _

Kiun laughed quietly. Meanwhile, Yato turned his attention to his friends, frowning in concentration as he sent a heart across the room to Hiyori. She laughed lightly and rolled her eyes. 

“See, Kazuma!” Yato shot. “I couldn’t do  _ that _ a week ago! I  _ am  _ training!” Kazuma nodded, obviously loathe to agree. 

“He seems normal,” Kiun said, “if you hadn’t been there I would have thought I imagined last night.” Take hmmed. 

“The other day I found him crying in the gardens, I didn’t mention it because I didn’t know what to make of it, but now I realize it must have been grief or guilt.”

“It seems he’s trying to put on a brave face for his friends. Maybe we  _ should  _ try to get to know him better.” 

Take made a sudden decision and sprung to his feet, striding across the room to Yato, who looked curiously at him. 

“Come with me,” Take demanded. 

“Where are we going?” 

“For a walk.”

“Yato still can’t walk,” Hiyori said, approaching. “If you take him somewhere you have to carry him.” Take blanched. Yato tried to protest. 

“You fainted when you tried to stand this morning,” Hiyori said dismissively, “where are you taking him?” 

“Not for a walk apparently,” Yato grumbled. Hiyori ignored him. 

“A tour of the grounds,” Take invented, not expecting the excitement his suggestion was met with. 

“I’d love too!” Yato exclaimed, then hesitated. “Are you going to try to kill me?”

“No.”

“Good, because you won’t be able to.”

A sudden prick to Take’s chin startled him as Hiyori used her naginata to guide his face in her direction. He recoiled at the steely glare she was giving him, the air around her shifting restlessly. 

“If he so much as breaks a stitch, I’ll cut you into pieces.” 

A bead of nervous sweat gathered at Take’s temple. 

“I promise to be very careful with him.” Hiyori glared for a solid six seconds more before she removed the naginata from his chin and stepped back. “Have a good time then!” She leaned down and kissed the gaping Yato on his cheek. 

“That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen!” Yato exclaimed, bringing a faint blush to Hiyori’s cheeks. 

“Thanks, I was trying to do your super scary face.” 

Yato gave her a wide grin, looking delighted. “Marry me.” 

She smiled softly before turning a stern, yet markedly less terrifying face on Take.

“I mean it, he isn’t allowed to walk. You either backpack him or carry him bridal style.” 

Sincerely  _ not  _ wanting to do either of those things, but also not wanting to back out now that all the Six were watching him, he decided that backpacking was less humiliating. Grumbling, Take turned around and knelt so Yato could climb on his back. Yato obliged, looking pleased, and wrapped his arms loosely around Take’s neck. 

“Do the gardeners here yell at you guys? The ones at the Jade Palace are mean, Tenjin told them they’re allowed to yell at us if we mess up the gardens and then make us help them fix it.” 

“Not all the gardeners are mean!” Yukine piped up. Yato shot him a knowing smirk. 

“ _ That’s right, _ ” he hissed. Yukine gulped nervously. Take turned away from this conversation that he didn’t care about and Yato winked at Yukine over his shoulder. 

“I can’t believe you actually did it,” Kiun said once they were out of the room. 

“Everyone was looking at me and I couldn’t just be like ‘oh never mind I forgot he’s half dead.’” 

“Why did you really ask me to come with you?” Yato asked, voice devoid of the exaggerated optimism that it had held while his friends were within earshot. 

_ So, he  _ was  _ putting on a brave face.  _

“Tenjin told me that I would trust you if I got to know you, and I thought it would be easier if you weren’t putting on a show for your friends.” 

Yato sighed heavily and rested his cheek on Take’s shoulder. “I just don’t want them to worry. I’m grateful for the company but it’s overwhelming when I get upset and suddenly all six of them are swarming around me trying to make it better. I’ve been trying really hard not to get annoyed at them for treating me like a kid because I  _ was  _ dead for a while, so it’s not like they don’t have good reasons.”

“Wait, what?” 

“Oh, did they not tell you? I died mostly and to the Spirit Realm. While I was there, they broke the spells the Sorcerer had put on me so I couldn’t use chi at all. That’s why I can do this now,” he summoned glowing chi in his hand and held it out in front of him. 

“Who are ‘they?’” Kiun asked. 

“I’ve been meaning to try a trick Tenjin showed me once if you would find an unbloomed flower for me.” 

“Who broke the Spells in the Spirit Realm?” 

“Tenjin can make flowers bloom with chi,” Yato reiterated. 

Take got the point that Yato wasn’t going to answer the question and sighed, looking around for a flower for Yato to play with. 

“Why did you go to the Valley of Peace?” Kiun asked. 

“For the peace.” 

“Hiyori called you a refugee,” Take said, spotting a flower a ways away and heading towards it. He felt Yato sigh again. 

“Tenjin is the only person the Sorcerer ever hesitated to attack. I hoped he would think I’d never dare to hide there, and even if he knew that he’d be too scared to come to get me there. Then the Old Man named me Dragon Warrior and ruined that plan. When the Gods of Calamity attacked the Jade Palace Rabo told me they’d been ordered not to.” 

Take set Yato down in front of the unbloomed flower and took a seat next to him. Kiun sat down on his other side. 

“So why did he?” 

“He wanted to see if I was gone for real this time, and, I think, if I was happy. I ran away a lot, and it was always him and Nora that the Sorcerer sent after me.” 

“If he loved you then why did he keep dragging you back to a place you obviously didn’t want to be?” Take asked scathingly, like he was  _ so  _ original to have had the thought. Yato shot him a withering look. 

“How would you imagine the Sorcerer responds to insubordination? Rabo would have been tortured and killed if he refused. He did what he had to, there were no hard feelings about it.” 

“You claim to have hated being a God of Calamity, but when we met it seemed to me that you  _ loved  _ it.” 

The chi in Yato’s hand spluttered out and he sighed heavily, turning tired eyes on Takemikazuchi. He really wasn’t going to pull any punches, was he?

“I  _ did  _ at the time. I didn’t always. Sometimes it varied from day to day. It was… easier than feeling the guilt and hating myself for what I’ve done,” Yato said, choosing his words carefully. “So sometimes I would just… become that person. Sometimes I would be him for a long time and sometimes I wouldn’t.” 

“And the man who loved killing is gone?” Kiun asked curiously as Yato held his hand out uselessly, unable to muster up any concentration during this conversation.

“...no. He’s still here. I used him when I fought Rabo, and a little one time in a spar with Hiyori. I was him the night I killed your friend. The others, they know who I am and what I’ve done, but they don’t  _ understand _ the way that you and I do. They’ve never actually  _ seen  _ me when I let the evil parts of myself out to play. The Sorcerer kept me well away from the Striking Six, because he said I’m too  _ impressionable _ . Rabo nearly killed Kazuma once though,” he added fondly. Yato took another deep breath and tried the technique again, scowling when he didn’t manage it. “How did he  _ do  _ that?” 

“It takes years of practice to master that technique,” Kiun offered, “you won’t get it in one afternoon.” 

“But I don’t have years! Once the Sorcerer regroups from us beating his forces at the Jade Palace, he’ll come for me here!”

Yato fixed the flower with a piercing glare and thought back to the feeling of his wounds being healed. He imagined the chi flowing through him and being absorbed by the flower. Still nothing. He threw himself backward onto the ground, screaming, then shouted when his wounds jarred painfully. 

“FUCK!”

“Yato, be careful! If you hurt yourself Hiyori will kill me!” Yato groaned and closed his eyes, waiting for the throbbing in his many wounds to subside.

He spent a couple more hours trying to bloom the flower while Take asked questions and he dodged the ones he deemed too intrusive. By lunchtime, he was looking ragged and tired, but he continued working without complaint. 

Despite keeping his answers short and to the point the digging up and examining of his past rung him out. Eventually, even Take couldn’t ignore the bags forming under Yato’s eyes and decided that he should take Yato back lest Hiyori take offense to the state of him. 

“I’ll take you back to the others now.” 

“Actually, can you just take me back to my room?” 

Take observed the tiredness hiding in the lines of Yato’s smile and nodded. 

He was asleep before his head even hit the pillow.  _ He must have been more exhausted than I thought, _ Take mused. When he entered the training room he received a series of suspicious looks from the Six. 

“Where is he?” Yukine asked. 

“He wore himself out playing with his power, he asked to take a nap.” There was a beat of silence where no doubt all of them checked that Yato’s presence was where Take said he was before turning back to their training.

* * *

It was several more days before Yato could take even a few steps with support. Which he took to mean that he was able to resume his usual cooking duties, though he still had to be assisted (read carried) into the kitchen and had to sit in a chair while he was cooking. Still, he would be held off no longer. 

The first time Take and Kiun sat down to one of their family dinners it was with trepidation and confusion, feeling entirely out of place. The invitation from Yato had been a surprise, but he’d sprung it on them in front of everyone and they couldn’t refuse without seeming horribly rude. The sly bastard. So they had wound up at a table with Yato and the Striking Six, the odd men out in their little family. 

“I missed your cooking!” Hiyori sighed, taking her first bite of the meal. “The cooks here are good, but not as good as you.”

Yato grinned proudly. “Nothing compares to the hard work of a master!”

“I’m glad you didn’t die if only so that once this is all over I never have to eat burned porridge again,” Bishamon said. 

“Where did you learn to cook?” Take asked, thinking it  _ surely _ wasn’t standard God of Calamity protocol to be trained in the culinary arts. 

“Lots of places!” Yato replied. “I’ve worked at a lot of different restaurants over the years.”

“Yato can’t hold down a job,” Yukine translated. The rest of the Six laughed while Yato blustered. 

“It wasn’t always my fault! Like when that customer lady broke every bone in my body!”

“Wait, what?” Take asked, taken aback. Kofuku leaned forward and spoke in a stage whisper. 

“He’s exaggerating, she didn’t  _ really _ . Just his wrist, his leg, and a few ribs.” Take looked around the room, unsure if she was messing with him. 

“Feel my wrist!” Yato exclaimed, holding the appendage out to Take. Take did so, feeling very awkward and horrified as he felt the improperly healed break. “It still aches when it rains.”

“That’s his favorite story to tell,” Daikoku said, rolling his eyes. 

“At least he’s not telling the same story about his first date over and over,” Bishamon said dryly. 

“It’s a good story,” Daikoku growled. 

“It really is,” Yato said, going all misty-eyed. Bishamon, Kazuma, Hiyori, and Yukine all groaned. 

“It’s a normal story, you're just a hopeless romantic,” Yukine snapped. 

“Guilty as charged!”

Take and Kiun exchanged a look, Yato never ceased to surprise them. 

“I’m sure Hiyori’s got some extravagant dates in store for her when Yato is a touch less dead,” Kofuku trilled. Hiyori groaned and Yato nodded emphatically. 

“Just how extravagant?” She asked hesitantly. “I’m a simple girl!” Yato shot her a glowing and mischievous look. 

“I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise!” Hiyori looked like she was about to protest but Kofuku cut across her. 

“Ohh, Hiyori let him have his fun, Rabo never let him plan elaborate dates, don’t crush his spirit!”

“Yeah, Hiyori, don’t crush my spirit!” She sighed heavily. Hiyori had anticipated that Yato would play the dead boyfriend card at some point, but she hadn’t expected Kofuku to play it  _ for  _ him. Hiyori wondered briefly if he’d paid her off somehow. 

“Fine.” 

Yato cheered. 


	16. 15- Inner Peace

Yato stood next to Tenjin, sweat beading and muscles aching, refusing to complain. Amaterasu had given him the  _ knowledge  _ of how to defeat Father, but the knowledge was meaningless without the skill to control his newly unlocked chi. Doodling in the air was one thing, but these were advanced and powerful techniques that took  _ years _ to master and he needed to do it in weeks, maybe months. 

Suffice to say Tenjin was pushing him very hard. 

Not that it mattered, Yato was unable to so much as bloom a flower, much less muster enough chi to banish his father back to the Spirit Realm. But now that he was well enough to stand Tenjin had declared it time to begin his preparation since training in chi was mentally but not physically taxing, Hiyori had given her blessing. 

“You need to focus on finding inner peace, Yato,” Tenjin said again. 

Yato bit his tongue again, though every time Tenjin said that it became harder not to scoff.  _ Inner peace? Yeah, right.  _

He sighed. If Tenjin was to be believed, then the storm cloud of rage and grief that had been his constant companion as long as he had lived was the thing standing between him and defeating his father.  _ Maybe that was another plot of his, _ he thought wryly. Still, whether or not his conscience was a part of Father’s plan, he couldn’t very well get rid of it. How could a man like him make peace with the emotions that tore him to shreds? 

How had his father?

As soon as the thought occurred to him Yato laughed. His father didn’t give a damn about the people he’d killed, that was how. Yato on the other hand? He was surrounded on all sides by an army of faceless bodies, each with their own ocean of guilt. He was far too haunted to ever find peace. 

“Could you take this seriously?” Tenjin asked, annoyed. 

“Sorry, I was just thinking about how easily this must come to my dad. It must be a cinch to find peace when you don’t regret a damn thing, huh?”

Tenjin fixed him with a look that told Yato he’d said more than he meant too. “You can’t let your past rule your future. At some point, you’ve got to stop letting the guilt drown you and move forward, even if you feel like there are weights tied to your ankles.”

“Easy for you to say, old man, how many massacres have you committed single-handedly?” 

Tenjin paused, then sighed. “Everyone has things they regret, Yato. Even me, even your father. One person having  _ more  _ regrets doesn’t mean the regrets of the person with fewer don’t matter. 

“I didn’t say that,” Yato pouted, kicking the dirt and pulling on his ear with one hand. Tenjin rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering why the universe had sent him a Dragon Warrior that could be  _ such  _ a child. 

As he had the thought Yato perked up and turned in Hiyori’s direction just before she entered the courtyard and Tenjin smiled. At the very least Yato’s ability to sense auras had greatly improved. He took one look at Yato’s expression and chuckled. 

“It would seem our time is up for now.” 

“Thank God,” Yato said, making a beeline for Hiyori without hesitation while she shot Tenjin an apologetic smile.

* * *

Yato took Hiyori with him to a secluded flower patch and collapsed gracelessly to the ground, dragging her down with him. She let out an alarmed squeak of protest and surprise but still managed to brace their fall enough that Yato’s wounds weren’t jarred too badly. She settled with her head in the crook of his shoulder, one hand resting casually on his chest. Yato enclosed that hand in his own, wrapping his other arm around her waist. Together they turned their eyes to the clouds, watching as the sea breeze ushered them overhead.

“Look! That one looks like a bunny!” Hiyori exclaimed. She lifted their entwined hands and pointed to the cloud in question. 

“Uh…” Yato said, wondering if Hiyori had ever  _ seen  _ a bunny. “Sure.” 

“Why do you say it like that?” 

“I’m not saying it like anything, it totally looks like a bunny!”

“No way! You sound like you’re humoring a crazy person!” She lifted up slightly to turn eyes of amused indignation at him and he flashed a lopsided grin. 

“I am!” He replied, booping the end of her nose with their clasped hands. 

Hiyori sat up and punched him on his uninjured shoulder. “You’re the crazy one!”

“Ow! Okay, okay! I’m sorry!” He laughed. She rolled her eyes then looked back down at him, gaze glowing with affection. He felt himself melting and decided to use the arm still around her waist to pull her closer before all his joints turned to jelly. “Come here, you.” She settled back down without protest, snuggling a little closer. Yato hummed in contentment, resting his cheek against the top of her head. 

Here, hidden in the swaying grass, with the sounds of the shore whispering in the distance and Hiyori’s breath against his skin, it was easy for him to feel like a normal man spending time with a girl he was crazy about. The two of them didn’t speak, content to enjoy one another’s warmth for several minutes before they felt Yukine’s approach. Hiyori sighed, pressing a soft kiss to Yato’s jaw before scooting away so their embrace was less intimate and she lay on the grass, rather than on Yato. 

“What are you two doing?” Yukine asked when he caught sight of them. 

“Cloud watching,” Yato replied, “join us!” He extended a hand to Yukine, who looked from their intertwined fingers to the clouds passing overhead in the sea breeze, then shrugged, apparently deciding they weren’t being affectionate enough to warrant his disgust. 

“That one looked like a turtle to me,” Yukine pointed to a cloud and Yato narrowed his eyes at it, tilting his head. 

“I don’t know, I think it looks like a fish.” 

“I think it’s a turtle,” Hiyori put in.

“You’re just mad about the bunny,” Yato retorted. 

“I will neither confirm nor deny that.” 

Yukine cast them a quizzical look but didn’t bother asking. After a few minutes, he laid back, casually pillowing his head on Yato’s stomach. Yato and Hiyori shared a glowing look as something warm blossomed and spread in his chest. He placed the hand that wasn’t twined with Hiyori’s on Yukine’s shoulder, idly stroking with his thumb. Hiyori scooted closer and wrapped Yato’s arm around her waist once more, returning her head to his shoulder where she apparently felt it belonged. Yukine looked over at the sound of rustling but didn’t comment on their change of position, which Yato took to mean he didn’t care. 

_ I wish we could stay like this forever _ , Yato thought. 

“How did training with Tenjin go?” Yukine asked eventually. 

“Not well,” Yato admitted. “He’s saying I won’t be able to do any more than my cool light doodling until I find  _ inner peace _ ,” he spat the words out like they tasted bad. “Like that’s even possible for someone like me.” 

“You seem pretty peaceful now,” Hiyori pointed out, her hand resting over his heart. She looked up when he turned to her, so the tips of their noses were almost touching. 

“I wonder why.”

Yukine made a disgusted sound. “If you guys are gonna start being gross I’m going to leave!”

“Sorry, Yukine! But for the record, I meant you too! I love you both!” Yukine spluttered and turned his red face away, though he didn’t throw Yato’s hand off. Hiyori suppressed a giggle at his reaction, turning her face into his shoulder. 

_ She’s right, though _ , he thought.  _ I  _ do  _ feel at peace now.  _

Yato glanced to the left and saw a morning glory there, unbloomed. Feeling the tug of temptation in the pit of his stomach, he reached out, then hesitated, biting his lip. He closed his eyes, breath catching in his throat as he focused his energy, reaching out for the flower. His fingertip brushed the soft petals and he opened his eyes, expelling his held breath when he saw the bloomed morning glory in front of him. Yukine and Hiyori were both smiling proudly at him. 

“See?” Hiyori said proudly. “I knew it.” 

Yato turned his eyes back to the sky, a new kind of peace settled over him as he started to feel like maybe, everything was going to be okay.

* * *

Yato took several more hours off with Hiyori and Yukine, enjoying the casual comfort of their warmth beside him before he tracked Tenjin down again. 

“Hey Tenjin, look what I can do!” 

Yato cycled through the stances that Tenjin had shown him carefully and faced a half-second of apprehension where he was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to replicate the effect and then would have to live with the emotional consequences of having declared ‘hey look what I can do’ only for nothing to happen before his chosen flower bloomed and he let out a silent sigh of relief. 

Tenjin got to his feet, eyes glowing with surprise and pride. 

“You finally did it!”

“I guess I did have room for a little bit of peace, after all,” Yato said, unable to suppress his smile. 

Tenjin smiled knowingly, “I had hoped that an afternoon with Hiyori might help you.”

Tenjin and Yato retreated to a more secluded area where they could practice Yato’s newfound ability without being interrupted, for as powerful as he was, Yato was still easily distracted. 

The next week of training was the most successful (and exhausting) one Yato had had for as long as he could remember, which was potentially due to the fact that he could  _ actually  _ harness the ability he was training in. It turned out all the instruction that Kazuma had given him hadn’t been for naught, and he’d absorbed a good bit of the information, leading to his fairly quick advancement through the beginner levels of chi training. 

Of course, he wasn’t sure if his improvement was  _ really  _ all that impressive or if he’d just set an abysmal standard for himself. Of  _ course _ , the Six were floored when Yato managed to make a plant bloom with his chi, two weeks ago they’d thought he didn’t  _ have  _ chi to begin with. Still, Yato didn’t protest all the attention and praise that he was receiving as a result of his newfound talent. 

Every day from dusk until dawn, breaking only for meals and for Hiyori to check Yato’s wounds, Yato was hard at work training in chi, building up his ability to harness larger amounts of chi at one time. Despite doing nothing physically strenuous, Yato collapsed into bed every night physically exhausted and sore. After the sixth day of unending training Yato finally confided in Tenjin the strange tension he was starting to feel somewhere baseless inside of him. 

“Ah, I was wondering when that would set in. I’m impressed, Yato, you lasted far longer than I expected you too.”

“When what would set in? What? What’s going on?” 

“Chi exhaustion.”

“That can happen?” 

“Yes, when you use too much of your chi too often it can put a strain on your spirit, even cause irreparable damage. I’m glad you told me, Yato, we don’t want to overwork you.” 

Yato, who had been considering ‘just sucking it up’ in the manner his father had taught him, was suddenly extremely glad that he had decided to complain. 

“So… what now?”

“Now we take a few days off to be sure you’re in the best shape you can be for your fight with your father. We’ll start training again when You’ve had time to recover.” 

“Oh, okay.” Yato wandered aimlessly around for a while before deciding that he was going to take a nap. 

Despite his apparent chi exhaustion, Yato was recovering well from his blood loss and getting stronger every day. The morning after Tenjin had ordered him to take a few days off Yato deemed himself in possession of enough blood to plan and set up a seaside picnic for himself, Hiyori, and Yukine. He was practically vibrating with excitement; his condition had prevented him from visiting the beach yet. 

Hiyori still didn’t want Yato going into town and shopping on his own, though, and Yato wanted to surprise her and Yukine with the contents of their picnic, and none of the others were familiar with the town, so he ended up being escorted by the unwilling and grumpy Take and Kiun. 

“You know we have a fully stocked kitchen at the Palace, I don’t know why you  _ had  _ to come to the market,” Take grumbled, trailing slowly behind Yato, begrudgingly carrying his shopping. 

“You had better slow down, Yato, you don’t want to overwork yourself,” Kiun warned as Yato bounded excitedly from stall to stall, observing everything that was available and trying to improvise a full meal on the spot. 

“Your kitchen cupboards are boring,” he said, pacing himself only a little bit. It seemed he would not be slowed from his task. “What do you guys think? Desserts and sweets? Four-course meal? Light lunch?” 

“You don’t want anything too heavy, you’ll have to carry it to the beach,” Kiun suggested. Take refused to participate in the discussion out of spite. 

“Alright, maybe a light lunch but something rich for dessert? It’s a special occasion!”

“That sounds nice, but you don’t want it to feel too much like a date if you’re bringing Yukine along. He might feel awkward.” 

“Kiun, you’re an expert!” Yato said jovially. He turned on the spot and immediately sank into deep deliberation, muttering to himself. “It needs to be something you could easily sit on the ground and eat.” 

“What about sandwiches?” Yato gave Kiun a scathing look that said his expert status was about to be revoked. “Fancy ones, on bread you’ll make yourself. The picnic is tomorrow, you have time to make bread.” Yato thought for a moment then decided this was a satisfactory idea. 

“Oh, and fried dough while I’m at it! Coated in cinnamon and sugar! It’s portable!” Yato said, the full meal taking shape in his mind. 

Now with a solid plan of action, Yato began bustling around the market, only occasionally wincing from his injuries, and purchasing everything he would need, thrusting it all into Take and Kiun’s arms. 

“Can we kill him?” Take murmured to Kiun. 

“No,” Kiun replied firmly. 

Several more minutes passed and Yato finally stopped moving, standing in the middle of the street, ignoring the annoyed look the laden down Take was giving him. 

“Are you  _ finally  _ done?” 

“No, there’s one last thing,” Yato said, looking around carefully, then lighting up when his eyes landed on the basket weavers stall. The elderly lady sat among her wares, methodically weaving her next basket in the shade of her awning. Yato eyed the baskets on display carefully as he approached. 

“Hello, Ma’am, I’m looking for a basket for a very special occasion.” 

The woman peered up at Yato, eyes taking a moment to focus. He waited patiently, calmer than he’d been all morning, wearing a charming smile. 

“What kind of occasion?” 

“A family outing to the beach. It’s our first, we’re from out of town.” 

“How many?” 

“Three, my g-girlfriend and the boy we take care of.” The old woman smiled, but Take frowned, wondering about the way Yato had stumbled over the word ‘girlfriend.’ He remembered the palpable sadness in the air when he’d found him that night in the storm, and realized that even though he hadn’t seen any more evidence of it, Yato must still be very upset, only taking great pains to hide it. 

“Ah, young love,” the old woman said, smiling, obviously not taking the same meaning from the stutter that Takemikazuchi had. Yato’s cheeks tinged slightly pink and his smile became a touch more sheepish. 

The image shook Take, bringing him back to the time he’d fought Yato as Yaboku, The Hollow. If someone had tried to tell him then, that there was this soft side to the man who had radiated cold and malice, he would have laughed in their face. Even now, with Yato leaning casually against the stall counter, for some reason turning on the charm for this old lady, Take could still hear the fearsome growl of the God of Calamity. 

“So, you see,” Yato said, snapping Take out of his memory, “it is  _ critically  _ important that I get the  _ perfect _ basket for my family. After all, it’s all about the  _ presentation _ .” 

The old woman chuckled and shook her head, struggling slowly to her feet, and while Yato waited patiently Take couldn’t help but compare his patient smile to the scowl he’d uncovered when he’d unmasked Yato. 

“ _ Congratulations, you’re the first to ever unmask me,” Yaboku had growled. “Too bad you won’t live long enough to brag to your friend. Oh, wait,” he half chuckled, glancing in the direction of the mutilated corpse he’d left in his wake, shooting Take a smug smile.  _

Take growled at the memory, feeling the fire of rage ignite once more in his belly. Kiun shot him a concerned look, though Yato hadn’t seemed to notice, he was too busy doting on the basket the old woman had just handed him. 

“This should be sturdy enough for food for three,” she said. 

Yato grinned and made a big show of inspecting the basket carefully, from everything from the hinges of the lid to the texture of the weave to the thickness and shape of the handle. The show forced Take out of his rage and into the increasingly familiar annoyance. It was a basket. It looked like a basket, why couldn’t he just buy it? Why did everything he did have to be such a goddamn spectacle?

“I believe you’re right. This basket is amazing, impeccably crafted, and it will serve me well.” 

He handed over the money she asked for and turned back to Take and Kiun, satisfied. They didn’t share his satisfaction in his purchase but  _ did  _ experience a fair amount of relief that they would finally be going home. On the whole walk Yato chattered about the meal he was planning for Hiyori and Yukine and Take wondered how he’d ever made this mistake of believing that Yato was someone to be feared.

* * *

“You should let me carry it! I made it as a treat for you! You shouldn’t have to carry it!”

“ _ You _ are still in recovery. You planned and cooked all the food yourself, Yukine and I can carry the supplies.” 

Hiyori had the blanket thrown over one arm and was using the other to help Yato navigate the slight incline. Yukine walked slightly ahead of them, carrying the basket. He glanced back and rolled his eyes at the way Yato was craning his neck to get a better look at the ocean, not bothering to watch where he was walking and stumbling over every uneven place on the path. He definitely would have spilled their food all over the ground if he’d been allowed to carry the basket. 

Yato took off running when they reached the beach, kicking sand up behind him and falling face-first when he tripped on the unfamiliar terrain. Hiyori would have found it funny if she weren’t concerned for his last few stitches that had yet to come out. Seconds later, however, Yato popped back up and gave them a thumbs up. Hiyori smiled fondly. 

“Come on, Yukine, let’s set up while he gets this out of his system.”

“You might not want to get into the water before we eat!” Yukine called as Yato made a beeline for the water. He halted in his tracks, considering the idea, then turned back to them. 

Yukine helped Hiyori throw out the blanket as Yato sat down, opening the basket and passing plates around. Yato grinned proudly as he passed the food between them. 

“We have sandwiches with homemade bread, fruit juice I squeezed by hand, and cinnamon bread!”

“I knew it!” Yukine exclaimed. “I knew you’d do cinnamon bread! Hiyori, that means that you have to take my dish duty next!” Hiyori looked put out but didn’t argue. 

Yato sat eagerly in between his two-favorite people, watching and waiting for Hiyori and Yukine to take a bite out of their sandwiches. Hiyori gave in first, deciding not to keep Yato waiting any longer. 

“Wow, these are really good!” She said once she’d swallowed because she was a civilized human being. 

“Yeah, I bet your cinnamon bread is great,” Yukine said through his mouthful of food. 

“Excuse you, everything that I make is great! Even my dad said so!”

“Wow, the  _ one _ thing he was ever right about,” Yukine said, swallowing his mouthful of food at last. Yato choked so hard on his hand squeezed juice it shot out of his nose. 

“Oh gross!” Yukine laughed, leaning away and laughing uproariously as Hiyori squealed, swooping the food out of the splash zone of Yato’s nose spray. 

“Yato!”

“Oh my God!” Yato coughed, still laughing. He’d always shied away from making fun of his father, even now, but apparently Yukine had no such reservations. Hiyori passed Yato a napkin and he wiped his face and blew his nose, wincing against the burning sensation the juice had left. 

“That wasn’t very fun,” Yato said, shaking his head. 

“Not for you,” Yukine replied. “It was a lot of fun for  _ me  _ to see it, though.” 

Hiyori laughed, mopping up the juice with a napkin then gesturing out to the beach around them. “Well, anyway, what’s the verdict, Yato? It’s your first ever beach trip!”

“I love it! It’s so beautiful!” Yato gazed out over the water as the sun started to sink below the horizon. He’d made sure to schedule their picnic for this time of day for the full effect. He sighed happily, taking a bite out of his sandwich. “Rabo got to see the ocean once and he told me I’d love it. I always wanted to go with him, but we never got the chance.” 

“His thing about romantic gestures, huh?” Yukine asked, again not bothering to swallow his food first. 

“No, we just never had jobs together out this way, and Gods of Calamity don’t get vacation time.” 

“How rude of your victims to not live in scenic locations,” Yukine said. 

“I know right!”

Hiyori snorted. “Well, you’re seeing it now, and that’s all that matters.” 

“Out of curiosity, if you  _ had  _ been allowed vacation days would he have taken one with you?” Yukine asked. 

“I think so, it was hard to get time alone at the compound,” he shuddered and grimaced at some memory he didn’t elaborate on. 

“I have a feeling we’ll all need a vacation after all this is over,” Hiyori said wryly. 

“You’re telling me,” Yato agreed, taking a cautious sip of his juice. 

“Let’s not talk about work, then,” Yukine said. 

“We could talk about your interest in gardening,” Yato teased, smirking over the rim of his juice cup at Yukine as his face flushed red and he stuffed the last bite of his sandwich in his mouth. 

“Gardening?” Hiyori asked. Neither boy answered her. 

“So, if we  _ were  _ to take a vacation where would you want to go?” Yukine asked, “Back to the beach? Or somewhere else?” 

“I’ve always loved the mountains,” Hiyori commented, “but swimming  _ would  _ be fun.” 

“We  _ live  _ on a mountain, Hiyori. How about the river? We could take afternoon boat rides and still get to play in the water. There’s this really nice port town that we went to on a mission once, me and Rabo even got to go on a date in this really nice cafe with outdoor seating…” he trailed off, smiling fondly at the memory. 

“What’s the town called?”

“Ahh… The Port of Jade Waters, I think.” 

“I remember that!” Hiyori cried out. “We were just a few towns over when you guys hit there!”

“Oh, I know,” Yato said mischievously. “You guys rode into town while Rabo and I were on our date. I specifically heard Kazuma say ‘there’s no way they’re still in town’. It was hilarious. That may have been the hardest Rabo laughed ever, in his life.” 

Hiyori gave him an incredulous look. “You’re kidding.” 

“Nope. You guys walked right by us.” 

“Unbelievable.” 

“Actually, I told that story to Father and he thought it was hilarious as well, but he did get very smug about the masks he always made us wear. ‘See, kids, I  _ told _ you the masks would protect you!’ or something.” Yato rolled his eyes. “But still, it was a good day.” 

The three of them settled into less murder-y topics while they passed out and enjoyed the cinnamon bread. It was, indeed, delicious, and Yukine requested to be taught to make it next. Yato agreed and they talked about baking for a while while Hiyori reclined and listened contentedly, most of the conversion going over her head. Having been raised in a well-off family then moving into the Jade Palace, she hadn’t done any of her own cooking before. 

After the meal when the sun was low and the tides were high Yato could be waylaid no longer and he sprinted off towards the water, grinning, kicking it up in all directions as he danced around. Eventually, after their leftovers were packed neatly away in the basket, he managed to drag Hiyori and Yukine out into the water with him. They ran and played, splashing and laughing in the fading light until every single one of them somehow managed to get soaked from head to toe. 

Once they had exhausted themselves in the water, they concluded the evening by walking along the beach together. Yukine led the brigade with Yato and Hiyori not far behind, walking hand in hand. 

“So how was this for our second date?” Hiyori asked, bumping his shoulder with hers. 

“Perfect,” he replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “A family outing for the three of us. One day I hope we can do it with Nora.” Hiyori smiled. 

“I’m sure you’ll be able to save her, don’t worry.”

“What’s she like?” Yukine called over his shoulder. “It’ll be nice to have someone my age around.”

“You mean someone other than your gardener friend?” Yukine shot him a dirty look. 

“Yeah, what’s Nora interested in? We want to make her feel welcome,” Hiyori put in. 

“She likes being mean to me,” Yato scoffed. “And she likes fish. She thinks they’re neat. She  _ can  _ be sweet when she’s not under our dad’s thumb, but she’s also  _ incredibly competitive _ so you and her will get along great,” he shot Hiyori a lopsided grin. “But also, when she’s uncomfortable she’ll go all cold.”

“Kinda like you?” Yukine asked.

Yato winced but couldn’t argue. “I guess it runs in the family, huh? But she gets  _ cruel _ and will lash out to hurt you, and she may take a while to warm up to you guys.” 

“Well you pretended to be an idiot for a month, so I think we’ll get by,” Yukine pointed out. 

Yato laughed. “That’s fair. She’ll have me and some kids her age, so she’ll probably be fine and I’m just worrying too much. She’s tough.” 

“I’m sure she’ll be alright,” Hiyori agreed, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. 

“We’ll have to come up with a master name for her eventually,” Yukine thought out loud. 

“I’m not sure how she’ll feel about being assigned an animal name, but we’ll have to cross that bridge when we get to it.” 

After about an hour they turned around and moseyed their way back to where they had left their picnic basket, all tired and happy and warm with each other’s company, though Yato couldn’t quite get past the little girl shaped hole in their possy. 

_ You’ll get her back _ , he told himself.  _ No matter what.  _

The three of them returned to their rooms and collapsed in their beds, smiling, and had sweet dreams, even Yato, who dreamed his sister was with him, and finally happy.

* * *

Two mornings later Hiyori ripped the blankets off Yato and prodded the side of his face with her toe. 

“It’s time to get up, we need to take out your last stitches then start your new training. Tenjin wants to start with combat chi now.” 

“Gross, don’t wanna,” Yato muttered, trying to roll away. 

“Uh-uh. You’re going to get your ass up and train because no way am I watching you die because you walked into a fight with your father unprepared.” 

Yato groaned loudly and sat up, taking note of the lack of painful twinges. It seemed he really was healing. Part of him was relieved, it meant the other’s would stop watching over him like a child and that he’d be able to move around without pain again, but it also meant his fight with his father was fast approaching and that thought still fed the little dread demon that had taken up residence in his stomach. 

He would have to face the music soon, and not only face his father on equal ground as an opponent but also return to the house where he’d lived with Rabo. Both of those thoughts made him feel quite ill, but he didn’t share these thoughts with Hiyori. By the look she was giving him she already knew what he was thinking. 

“Come on, let’s go to the infirmary so I can pull your stitches and we’ll eat breakfast before the sparring session.”

“That sounds good,” Yato said, pushing himself to his feet and running his hands through his hair. 

Despite having medics on duty in the infirmary, Yato refused to let any of them tend to him. With the depth and severity of his wounds, Hiyori had asked, once, if he wanted them to take care of them. They were fully trained medics, she said, and they had spent their lives focusing  _ solely  _ on medicine, not dividing their time unevenly between medicine and combat. Yato would have none of it, however. 

Not only did his deep-seated emotional trust issues prevent him from being at ease at the mercy of another person, but he also just liked having Hiyori take care of him. 

Yato lay on his stomach, arms crossed beneath his chin, watching the other medics bustle about their business while Hiyori took care of him. The feeling of her warm hands against his back made up for the uncomfortable sensation of little silk threads being pulled out of his body. By far the most severe of his wounds had been the deep slash across his back that Rabo had given him, and already he was imagining how it would look, a new, long slash against the patchwork of old scars. 

A reminder, forever on his flesh, of the life he used to lead, and the sacrifices he’d had to make to start a new life. 

“Yato,” Hiyori said, jolting him out of his dark line of thought. 

“Yeah?”

“Are you feeling okay?” 

“Yeah, why?” 

“Well, it’s kinda hard to remove these stitches when they’re frozen to your body,” She said. Yato blinked in surprise, craning his neck around to see his back, and most of the bed beneath him, covered in a thin layer of frost. 

“Oh,” Yato said, ignoring the whispers of the other medical staff as he and Hiyori’s breath fogged out in front of them. “Sorry.” Yato exhaled, releasing power he hadn’t meant to summon. 

“You want to tell me what that was about?” Hiyori asked as she brushed the frost away and used her warm fingertips to thaw the silk stitches in his skin. 

“Rabo.” Yato sighed, laying his head down. Hiyori didn’t respond, but Yato imagined her nodding her head. She had to have known before she asked. Several minutes later she announced that the removal of his stitches was complete and she helped him shrug back into his shirt. 

“Why don’t we go and get some breakfast now? It’s late so the kitchen staff will have already made it, you’ll have to make do with their cooking.” 

Yato groaned like this was the worst news he’d ever gotten in his life and Hiyori chuckled. 

“I think you’ll survive.” 

“You don’t know that for sure!”

* * *

Tenjin circled around Yato, palms glowing with chi. Yato followed his movements, rolling his eyes. Of  _ course,  _ the old bastard had to circle, probably because he knew Yato hated it. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he fended off Kazuma’s constant barrage of mental attacks. At least he was starting to show staring as well, proving to Yato that he  _ had  _ improved and giving him a motivation boost. 

They were trying to prepare him for an all-out fight with his father, who was adept at using mind control while still fighting with chi, and while Yato had improved drastically at both individually he was still struggling to combine the two. At least he’d trained as a killer for so long that the physical combat came as naturally to him as blinking.  _ That  _ part would be easy compared to the rest. 

_ Don’t get cocky. Your father taught you everything you know about fighting. He knows all of your tricks _ , Yato scolded himself. In this fight getting careless was as good as suicide. 

The quiet whisper of steel caught his attention just in time to duck out of the way of a heavy blow from Hiyori’s naginata. He hit the ground and rolled out of the way, nearly rolling straight into a chi blast from Tenjin. When he leaped out of the way, alarmed, he was caught off guard by Kazuma’s mental battering ram. Yato cried out and hit the ground hard and without grace, focused now on shoving Kazuma out of his mind before he struggled to his feet, head pounding and out of breath. 

“Not good, Yato. You can’t let your guard down no matter what, that’s going to be the first trick your father tries.”

The group paused to allow Yato to compose himself. He was half glad that they were letting him catch his breath and half annoyed because his father wouldn’t be giving him that same courtesy. 

“Again,” Yato gasped, straightening his spine. 

_ If you’re going to win you need to take them by surprise.  _

Hiyori leaped forward without further ado, slashing down his chest, face set in determination. Yato leaped forward, blocking her attack in one movement and ducking below Tenjin’s energy blast in the next. He tried to sweep Hiyori’s feet out from under her while Kazuma redoubled his efforts to break into Yato’s mind, fairly splitting Yato’s skull with the effort. Hiyori leapt over Yato’s attack gracefully, then attempted to springboard off his back but he was too fast for her. He grabbed her by the ankle and spun on the spot, leveraging all his strength and weight to spin Hiyori around and  _ fling _ her at Kazuma, who had his eyes closed in concentration. He didn’t open them until it was too late, notified only by Hiyori’s startled squeal before they collided. 

While all of them, Tenjin included, were distracted by this wild turn of events Yato summoned his own ball of chi with a touch of difficulty and flung it at Tenjin, closely followed by his wakizashi. The chi attack fell laughably short, but Tenjin was surprised enough by the wakizashi that Yato was able to get into close range, where he had a definite advantage. 

Tenjin may have been the greatest master of his time, and he was holding up well for his age, but time had still slowed him down. Still, he fended off several attacks from Yato before he was disarmed and forced to the ground by Yato, who was still bitter about the circling. 

There were several seconds of surprised not-silence where Hiyori and Kazuma disentangled themselves from each other with much grumbling and wincing and Tenjin panted at the end of Yato’s sword. Yato’s own heavy breathing was breaking the silence, but he managed to wait until Hiyori and Kazuma’s attention was back on him before he spoke. 

“I win,” he said, before collapsing onto the ground, panting. 

“This round,” Tenjin conceded, getting to his feet, “but you’ll have to do it a few more times to convince me that it wasn’t a fluke.” 

Yato screamed in frustration, even though he knew that Tenjin was right. He needed to do it again, then again, then again, until there was no doubt in  _ anyone _ ’s mind that Yato could defeat his father. Fortunately, Yato was allowed a few minutes after his victory to catch his breath and drink what felt like a gallon of water. 

“You need to stay hydrated,” Hiyori reminded him, drinking from her own cup, “we don’t want you passing out and missing valuable training time.” 

“How about overworking myself and being unable to get it up when the time comes?” Yato shot back, taking another long swig of water. 

“Don’t worry, we’re all being careful, you’re not starting to feel the chi exhaustion yet, are you?”

He shook his head. “Only the regular kind.” 

“Well good, you probably went a little soft during your long convalescence.” 

“Not likely,” Yato snorted. “Gods of Calamity don’t get rusty.” 

“Well you’re not a God of Calamity anymore, are you?” Hiyori challenged. 

Yato hesitated, wanting to say that the skills transferred, but he didn’t. “Alright then, we’ll give it as many more go’s as you want. I’m not backing down.” 

“Well neither am I,” Hiyori replied, her eyes taking on the gleam that told Yato he was in for a good fight now. 

They managed to work in two more brawls before they broke for a late lunch. Yato lost the first when Hiyori slammed the but of her naginata into his diaphragm and winded him, which allowed Kazuma to finish disabling him with his mental attacks. Yato needed several minutes to recover from this spectacular loss and had a feeling that both Hiyori and Kazuma had put their all into it and were madder than they were letting on about how Yato had won the last fight. 

The next brawl Yato actually managed to win, but only by a narrow margin where he mercilessly exploited the weaknesses of the people around them. He felt  _ terrible _ about hitting Hiyori where he knew she was still recovering and then smashing into Tenjin’s joints that ached with arthritis, but when the fight was over Tenjin had praised him, telling him that brutality- which he had worked so hard to be rid of- was unfortunately exactly what he’d need to defeat his father. 

“I know they  _ say  _ you can’t fight fire with fire, Yato, but you  _ really  _ can’t defeat the Sorcerer by playing nice.” Yato had nodded stiffly, then stormed off moodily to prepare lunch. 

He felt bad about the way he’d barked at the kitchen staff, who were only trying to do their jobs, to get out of his way, so once he’d calmed down he’d also written them an apology note and left more than enough food for all of them. It wasn’t  _ their  _ fault that he was angry with himself both for being so cruel and his hesitation to be cruel. 

They fought another, very long, very dirty fight after lunch, in which Yato felt better about being unfair because they others had started playing dirty as well, perhaps having realized that Father wouldn’t be playing fair after Tenjin’s words in the garden before lunch. Yato won this fight as well, also only just, but after the number of cheap shots he’d taken during the course of the fight from all three of his opponents he felt less bad about it. 

They’d all come away with a fair number of bruises and aches. 

Later that night Yato soaked in the bathtub for a long time, massaging his sore muscles. He knew it was nearly time, his wounds were almost completely healed, and he seemed to have finally replenished all the blood he had lost, not to mention he was actually getting rather good with using chi. 

He still wasn’t sure he was ready, he wasn’t sure he would  _ ever  _ be ready to face his father, emotionally  _ or  _ training wise because deep down, he knew he was still terrified of the man, and even  _ deeper  _ down he thought he might still love him. 

He’d had any number of reactions to seeing his father again after long separations over the years: abject terror, indifference, defiance, defeat, and groveling, to name a few. He hoped this time he would land a little close to defiance, that the presence of his friends would lend him the strength he’d previously lacked, but those occasions when he’d been determined to spit in his father’s face only to kneel at his feet stuck out nastily in his memory. 

Yato rolled his shoulder, staring up at the ceiling. No matter what happened with this fight, he knew deep down in his bones that this was the end. He would either end this fight victorious or dead. 


	17. 16- I Will Not Bow

It was decided that in the fight against the Sorcerer they could use all the help they would get, so the morning that the Dragon Warrior and The Striking Six were to begin the long journey to the Forest of Despair they were joined by Takemikazuchi and Kiun. 

“You sure you’re ready to face the Sorcerer?” Yato asked them, not looking up from where he was fastening his saddle. 

“Are you?” Take replied. 

Yato chuffed. “Honestly, I’m not. But I know it’s time.” 

“You’re going to be fine,” Kazuma said. “Your training has been going incredibly well. The Sorcerer won’t know what hit him.” Yato smiled at him, grateful for the encouragement, but still not entirely believing him. 

_ Don’t get into your own head, _ he scolded himself. 

And so, the warriors set out with little further discussion, riding as fast as their horses would take them towards what they  _ hoped  _ would be the end of a centuries-long conflict. All of them knew that they could each die when they reached their destination, but when they did speak, they kept their mood light. 

What use was it to spend their final days consumed with fear and sorrow?

“If we’re to fight such an important battle together we should know each other a little better,” Take said when they stopped to rest for the night. Not one of the assembled crew mistook the mischief glinting in his eyes. 

“What do you want to know?” Yato asked warily. 

“What was it like? Living in the compound with the others?” Take asked. Yato took a long breath, carefully considering what he wanted to tell Take. 

Though it wasn’t actually a secret anymore, Yato wasn’t sure anyone had actually bothered to tell Take and Kiun that the Sorcerer was his father, and he also wasn’t sure he wanted to discuss that particular detail now. Maybe they had put two and two together on their own, it wasn’t exactly a hard connection to make. 

“There wasn’t much privacy, it felt like we were all tripping over each other, but at least The Sorcerer let us install locks on our doors after a particular… incident,” Yato said, face burning at the memory. 

“I thought he never gave you any freedom, I can’t believe he let you  _ lock  _ your door,” Yukine said curiously. 

“...well there was a particular incident that was traumatizing for everyone involved, the Sorcerer included,” Yato said tightly, feeling his flush deepen as he stared determinedly down into his food. 

“What kind of thing would  _ The Sorcerer _ find emotionally troubling?” Take asked incredulously. 

“You know what I’m just not sure that’s important.” 

“I think it is,” Take insisted. “What if it could help us, if there’s a weakness to exploit.” 

Yato made a sound that he did not possess the language to describe. “ _ Believe me _ , it’s of no use.” 

“I  _ don’t  _ believe you, actually.  _ Anything _ could be of use. Tell us what happened!”

“He walked in on me and Rabo being intimate  _ if you must know _ !”

The entire circle reacted at once, Yukine practically shouted in horror, Bishamon physically recoiled, Take spit his drink all over Kiun, who leaped back, shouting, and Hiyori said ‘ _ oh no’ _ in a very high-pitched voice. 

“You’re  _ kidding _ ,” Take said when he recovered. Yato buried his burning face in his hands and shook his head. 

“He tried giving us the  _ talk _ after that. It was horrible. Hands down the worst thing I’ve ever experienced. He had  _ diagrams _ . I made a break for it right then and there and he had to tackle me to the ground. Rabo and I couldn’t look at each other for a week. He  _ still _ knocks, even if the door is wide open. That was the only time I’ve ever heard him scream,” Yato said into his hands. 

“That might be the worst story I’ve ever heard,” Take said, voice soft with horror. “The  _ Sorcerer _ .” Yato shuddered, shaking the memory off.

* * *

It was a long journey to the Forest of Despair, and there were many nights around the campfire spent laughing and talking, though none revealed any information as viscerally horrifying as Yato had the first night. Still, he was starting to think that he may actually  _ like  _ Take and Kiun, and perhaps that one day they might all be friends. Certainly, it was entertaining to watch them find things to fuss about when no  _ rational  _ person would be fussing over them. 

“I’m starting to pity my dad, if Nora and I act anything like this,” Yato said behind his head to Kazuma one day as Take and Kiun had some meaningless argument that no one even could determine the origin of. 

“I’m starting to pity us because we’re the ones who are going to have to live with the two of you from now on.” 

Yato winced. “We’ll be good,” he promised. 

“Doubt it,” Kazuma replied. Yato would have been offended, except Take had said something unnecessarily mean to Kiun and Kiun was giving him the silent treatment. 

“Okay, I’m  _ certain _ that Nora and I never acted like  _ this _ ,” Yato said. 

“Well, that’s a relief to hear,” Kazuma said. The two of them watched while Take and Kiun made up and were suddenly thankful they lived in  _ different _ temples.

* * *

Yato didn’t feel as nervous as he’d expected as they rode towards his childhood home. This was the first time he was returning of his own will, and there was something different when it was his choice when he came back under his own power rather than being dragged back. He hadn’t expected the power that that choice had granted him. 

The morning that the assembled warriors were to breach the Forest of Despair dawned without fanfare, feeling both different and the same as it had before. Yato had lived this morning dozens of times before, and much like his friends now, who were all careful of Yato, Rabo, and even Nora would be particularly kind to him. Yato had known their missions to retrieve him were a strain on all of them, and on certain occasions he’d caught both of them looking rather ill, knowing what was to come. Today his friends were smiling, offering him seconds, and offering reassurances that he hadn’t asked for. 

If any of them were surprised by Yato’s composure they didn’t show it, but he was surprising himself by feeling calm and just shy of confident. So when they mounted their horses and took the last few miles towards the Forest of Despair, Yato was able to grip the reins without trembling.

Yato stopped his horse several yards short of the Edge of the Forest of Despair. This, too, was a familiarity from his past life. Rabo would always stop here, just for a few moments, to allow Yato time to brace himself in whatever way he could manage, but never for long. Rabo was someone who believed in ripping off the bandage, the faster the better, and maybe he was right. Spending longer stalling outside the Forest of Despair would only force Yato to spend more time wrapped up in his fear. 

Yato turned his head slowly from the Forest of Despair to look at his friends. “Kazuma?” He asked. Kazuma nudged his horse forward so they were side by side and furrowed his brow in focus. 

“Well, there aren’t any chi users ahead, at least,” he said blandly, knowing that the Forest was likely crawling the Sorcerer’s Phantoms. 

“Well,” Yato said, adopting some of Rabo’s mentality, “standing out here isn’t going to make this any less of a trap,” Yato said eventually. 

The group dismounted and tied the reins of their horses to the trees at the edge of the woods. Yato cast his senses around the forest just for the hell of it. Kazuma was still better than him at it, but Yato felt that it was a necessary measure for the sake of his pride. He took the lead as they stepped beneath the canopy. As the only person who had been to the Forest of Despair or even  _ met  _ his Father, he was the best one suited to spotting traps that may have been laid out for them. 

Except there weren’t.

The further into the forest they got without encountering a trap of any kind the more uneasy Yato became. It felt like Father was opening his arms wide and daring him to come in for a hug. Every snap of a twig seemed like an alarm to Yato, and he was only getting jumpier. 

Yato’s racing thoughts and pounding heart were driving him to distraction, almost causing him to miss the tripwire, but at the last minute it caught the light and saved him from whatever ugly fate had been in store for him. He observed it carefully while the others stepped over it. More than anything it felt like this trap had been left behind, forgotten. They ran into no more traps after that. 

“Is anyone else freaked out that Yato was so insistent there would be a fuck ton of traps, but we’ve only run into one?” Yukine asked. 

“Language,” the adults chorused. 

“The Sorcerer is probably trying to psych us out, don’t let him. There’s probably an ambush set up somewhere, so stay on your guard.” 

They walked on in silence for several more minutes before a snapping twig to their left caught everyone’s attention just in time to see an arrow fly out of the woods for Hiyori’s heart. An instant before it pierced her chest she snatched it out of the air, halting Yato’s cry of alarm, his fingers outstretched uselessly. He barely had time to think  _ that was so fucking hot _ before a hundred combatants poured out of the trees from all directions and they were fighting for their lives.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Yato called, knocking a Phantom out with a hard punch to the jaw and ducking under the attack of another. 

The other fighters were too busy, well, fighting, to comment on Yato’s smugness.

For every Phantom they disabled three more took their place. It seemed Father’s strategy was a simple numbers game: to overwhelm them so that even if they made it to him, they would be exhausted. Coward. He must have raided all the nearby villages and taken the entire population to gain a force of this size after they’d taken out so many of his soldiers at the Jade Palace. 

Take buried his sword in the chest of a Phantom and Yato cried out in indignation. 

“They’re not in control!”

“We can’t save any of them if they kill us!”

_ Cull the herd _ . 

The force of the echo nearly knocked Yato off his feet. He had been wrong about the purpose of this ambush. Father had been trying to force Yato back into the cold place of bloodlust that he’d fought so hard to get out of. Well, it wouldn’t work. He wouldn’t kill any of these people like he would have mere months ago. 

A sharp pain in his forearm snapped him back to the present and he shouted, tearing the blade out of his flesh and using it to throw off the Phantom who had just attacked him. 

“We’re never going to get through all of these people!”

“You guys go ahead! We’ll handle the Phantoms!” Kiun said, punching one in the face so hard they collapsed. 

“What do you mean by  _ handle _ ?” Yato asked, glaring at Take. 

“We’ll  _ hold them off _ ,” Take growled. 

“There’s too many!” Yukine said. “They’ll overtake you!”

“Not if you hurry up and kill the guy controlling them!” Take snapped, disabling another Phantom and looking annoyed. 

“We’ll stay back and help!” Bishamon said. “You three go on ahead!”

The idea of splitting up made Yato’s skin crawl. As long as they were in his sight he could keep Father from stealing them away, but they were right, and he knew it. He  _ had  _ to defeat his father, as soon as possible, not only to save his friends but to save the Phantoms they were fighting too.

“Hiyori, Yukine, Up!” Yato shouted. The three of them shoved through the onslaught and bounded up nearby trees while the remaining fighters closed ranks. 

Bow strings sang and arrows sunk into the trees around them. Hiyori cried out as one clipped her, nearly crashing to the ground. She was saved only by her naginata getting tangled in the tree branches, suspending her in the air above their attackers. Yato watched in horror as arrows whizzed past her, two grazing her skin and one lodging in her leg before she managed to right herself and scrambled away into the canopy. She reached down and snapped off the shaft of the arrow then leaped into the next tree, slashing foliage out of her way. 

They really hadn’t thought this escaping through the foliage thing through, Yato realized, as a quick glance to his right told him that Yukine was having the same difficulties with his long weapon. 

“Yato, keep going!” Hiyori shouted. 

Yato glanced down at the Phantoms that were firing on them before hurrying after his family. Yato took the lead, cutting down branches to rain down on the heads of their pursuers and clear the path for Hiyori and Yukine with their cumbersome weapons. Their efforts slowed the Phantoms enough for them to gain a lead, and eventually they were out of sight. 

They continued leaping from tree to tree until a familiar glinting caught Yato’s eyes and he shouted for the others to stop. He landed unbalanced on a tree branch and nearly fell before he caught himself. 

“What is it?” Hiyori asked, stopping much more gracefully than he did despite her injured leg. 

“I think it’s a tripwire,” he said, indicating it with the tip of his sword. 

“Up this high?”

“I guess dear old Dad really does know all of my tricks.”

“Should we move to the ground? It’ll be easier to spot traps down there,” Yukine suggested. 

“Yeah,” Hiyori agreed. “We’ll make better time without Yukine and my weapons getting in the way.” Yukine nodded and the three of them dropped back to the forest floor. Hiyori cried out as her injured leg was jarred in the fall and she collapsed. Yato and Yukine both reached for her, but she brushed them off. 

“I’m fine, we need to keep going.” 

They did a quick check for nearby booby traps before running on ahead. They were almost to the compound now, just a few more minutes of running and they broke through the tree line. Yato’s chest gave a predictable squeeze and twinge of fear as his eyes landed on the facade of his former home. He swallowed that fear in favor of peering at the two people who were leaning against the stoop; a man of average height and a short girl dressed all in white. 

“Nora, Fujisaki,” Yato greeted by way of explanation. “I wasn’t expecting my old man to post you as a guard, spy.” Fujisaki’s lips curled upwards in a smile that made Yato’s skin crawl. 

“Who says I’m a spy, Hollow?” Fujisaki’s voice slithered up Yato’s spine and wormed its way into his ears. Yato eyed the sword on his hip. 

“So, you  _ do  _ fight, I always wondered. I guess the next question is are you good enough to take on one of the Striking Six, or did my father just send you to your death?”

“I suppose you’ll see.” 

“Yato, Yukine and I will keep Fujisaki and Nora busy, you go ahead and deal with your Father.” 

“How ambitious,” Fujisaki hummed. 

Yukine and Hiyori sprang forward, engaging the two sentinels in combat so that Yato could sprint past them and into the building. He didn’t bother to slow his pace to look for traps, he knew there would be none, and he knew exactly where he was going. 

He slowed to a walk before he crossed through the threshold into the parlor, supremely unsurprised to see Father sitting calmly at the end of the room like he always had. Yato paused just inside the door and glanced around the familiar room, his decades-old screams echoing off the walls. He ignored them. They existed only in his memory now. 

“Yaboku, so nice of you to drop by.” 

“I see that I was expected.” 

“Yes, I do hope that you liked the welcoming committee.” 

“It was fantastic, there really is no place like home,” Yato replied shortly. He readied his weapons and took several more steps into the room so he wasn’t just hovering in the door. Father raised his eyebrows. 

“Are you going to stand and fight or will you give me the pleasure of killing you easily?” 

“I can assure you I will not be easy to kill, even if you are now in control of your own chi,” Father said, climbing to his feet. The rings on his staff jangled as he lifted it from the ground and tapped the end on the ground twice. Yato chuffed. So, Father  _ had  _ felt the severance of his hold on Yato. 

“Once I defeat you and kill those people you’ve brought into our home, I’ll have to ask you how you broke my spells, so I can fix that for next time.”

“Next time you steal my chi or next time you steal a boy?”

“I would tell you, but I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.”

Having no desire to continue the conversation, Yato sprang into action. His sword collided with his father’s staff with an almighty clanging as the impact set the rings jangling loudly. Father wore his usual unconcerned expression like his weapon hadn’t just made the loudest and most obnoxious sound that Yato had ever had the displeasure of hearing. 

_ Well, this fight is gonna be fun, _ Yato groaned internally. 

“Nora told me you killed Rabo, I must say I was proud. I never approved of your attachment to him,” Father said, with no apparent plans to shut his mouth anytime soon. 

Yato gritted his teeth in anger and spun on the spot, hammering both his swords into his father’s staff, setting off another round of ear-splitting jangling. Even more aggravating than Father’s words was the fact that Yato’s attack hadn’t moved him an inch. Not even a tiny little baby one. 

_ He’s fucking with your mind, don’t respond.  _

“But of course, your infatuation with him helped keep you in line, and he  _ was  _ a magnificent killer, so I let him live. I never expected you to kill him yourself. You’re more like me than I gave you credit for.”

The words struck something deep and sensitive inside Yato and he lashed out, screaming, with a kick aimed at his father’s head to wipe that stupid grin off his face. He screamed again when the Sorcerer dodged. Cool amusement was met with unbridled hate and rage as Yato slashed for his father’s throat. 

“I’m nothing like you,” he shouted, unable to keep a hint of desperation from his own voice. He slammed his knee into his father’s side and was rewarded with a satisfying whoosh of air from his lungs before the butt of the staff slammed into Yato’s temple, sending him stumbling back several steps with stars in his eyes. 

“You’ve let yourself go,” his father teased. 

“So, have you,” Yato said, pointing at his father’s temple, where his curly black hair was just starting to stick to his skin, dampened with sweat. “Is it just me or are you actually having to  _ try  _ to fight me?  _ Tsk, tsk.  _ You should be ashamed, but don’t worry, I think you and Tenjin could start an out of shape old timer’s club.”

* * *

Take’s sides were heaving with effort, his vision starting to blur with exhaustion, but still, he pressed on, because none of the Striking Six were showing their fatigue yet and he’d be damned if he were the first one in this group to show signs of weakness. They still stood in their loose circle to fend off the Phantoms that  _ still  _ hadn’t fallen. Or maybe they had, and they were just getting up again. At least they had finally seemed to stop  _ increasing  _ in number. 

They were at a severe disadvantage. They couldn’t morally kill the people who were coming after them, at least not without the Dragon Warrior bitching and moaning about it when he got back. Not that it was entirely possible to avoid injuring or even killing the Phantoms accidentally. This was a battle and a lot could go wrong in it, and there were  _ so  _ many Phantoms, none of whom were limited by the same no-killing-whenever-possible restriction that they were. 

Still, it was a sure thing that this day would see its share of grief by its end. 

All of the Six were sporting injuries inflicted by people who were not in control, but who were nonetheless vying very hard for their blood. Occasionally there was simply no choice but to disable the enemy permanently to avoid dying themselves. 

Daikoku grabbed two phantoms and slammed their heads together, knocking them both out and then throwing them into the onslaught of attacking Phantoms. Bishamon didn’t have the space to use  _ either _ of her main weapons and was forced to fight hand to hand with only a small dagger to defend herself. Her arms were a tapestry of cuts and gashes, though she was no less a terrifying force of nature, her long hair whipping about as she took down opponent after opponent, fierce glare never showing her fatigue. 

Kofuku’s line of vision was a blur of friends and enemies. Even though she was attacking mostly with the blunt in of her fans, digging them into pressure points, she still occasionally had to slash with the blades, and her skirt was splattered with an alarming amount of blood. It was  _ mostly  _ her own, which was  _ more  _ alarming to her husband, she was certain, not that he could tell precisely whose blood was covering her in the midst of all this. She hadn’t had time to assess all her wounds, but she trusted that if they were too bad for her to continue fighting her husband would have advised her to flee, so she assumed that she was fine for now at least. That might not be the case for much longer, but she couldn’t afford to waiver here. 

Although it did seem like the ranks were starting to thin, but that was only if the ones they had knocked down  _ stayed  _ down. There had already been a few they’d had to knock out twice, and if this continued they’d have  _ no choice  _ but to start fighting to kill or else their own lives would be ending here.

* * *

As it turned out Fujisaki  _ could  _ fight, and well. Not  _ too  _ well, though. Hiyori was confident she was winning, even if he was fixing her with a smug grin and they were both breathing heavily, covered in cuts and bruises. 

“You’re better than I thought you would be.” 

“You expected the Sorcerer to employ a spy that couldn’t defend themself?” 

“AHA!” Hiyori shouted, drawing curious glances from the other dueling pair. “So, you admit it! You  _ are  _ a spy!” Fujisaki looked baffled by her tone. Maybe he’d already forgotten he’d given Yato the runaround on whether or not he was a spy. He had probably done it just to piss Yato off. 

“Yes…” he said slowly. Hiyori smiled smugly, meeting Fujisaki’s confused and amused expression. 

Not that it mattered that he’d confessed because once she killed him, he was going to be a corpse and not a spy. 

Still, she danced into her next attack with renewed vigor, slashing at his creepy smiling face. He blocked the attack and swept her feet out from under her. She used the pole of her naginata to vault herself out of his attack range and coughed when she hit the ground hard, Several small rocks digging harshly into her back. Hiyori pried herself off the ground, glaring at Fujisaki but wondering how Yato was doing inside against his father. She and Yukine had to do was keep these two out here and off of Yato’s back or he would be doomed. 

She glanced over at where Yukine was locked in combat but didn’t have very much time to observe him. 

Yukine didn’t wince this time when his staff cracked against Nora’s skull. She stumbled back, sword raised in defense and one eye closed in a wince. Knowing that any mercy he offered would be taken advantage of, Yukine kept his eyes and his heart stone cold, emulating Yato’s frozen demeanor during fights. He wasn’t sure how well he was managing, but he thought he may at least be getting the point across that he wasn’t going to be falling for her tricks again. 

If he could just disable her or keep her busy until Yato killed their father he remained convinced that his sister would see reason. Nora was glaring at him from underneath the many knots he’d knocked on her head in an attempt to do just that, knock her out without killing her, but she just  _ wouldn’t go down _ . He was starting to worry that he was going to give her brain damage. 

Nora shook her head and shot back at him, spinning in the air to give her attack more velocity. The force of her sword against his staff chipped the wood and he squeaked in alarm. It had taken so much damage recently he’d probably need a new one. Not that that was a bad thing, he was starting to outgrow it anyway, and he’d probably have changed to a larger one soon anyway. Nora followed through with her attack with her entire body, slamming into him and bringing them both to the ground. He scrambled to get out from under her as she snatched up a rock and slammed it against his head. The nasty look in her eye told him this was revenge for all the knots he’d given her. 

_ She really will attack with anything, huh _ ? He thought, remembering Yato’s story about the wooden spoon. 

“You’re trying to destroy our family!” She shrieked. 

“What kind of family is it, really?” Yukine shouted back. 

He felt hot blood spilling down his temple where she’d struck him and snatched his staff up, using it to shove Nora away. Knocking the rock out of her hand, he forced himself back onto his feet and towards Nora, who slashed at the backs of his fingers. Yukine was ready this time and dodged the attack. 

“It’s all I’ve got!” She shouted back, surprising Yukine with the note of desperation in her voice.

* * *

Father leaped back at Yato and their melee began again. He slashed open Yato’s cheek with the sharpened end of his staff while Yato focused his chi in his fist and slammed it into Father’s gut. A shockwave exploded from the point of impact and flung his father back several feet. Yato allowed himself a sigh. 

_ Ah, that was satisfying.  _

“I’ve actually gotten pretty good at this chi thing,” Yato said, doing a quick survey of his mental walls and was glad to find them intact. 

“Oh, I didn’t realize we were fighting with chi,” Father said, climbing to his feet and bracing his staff out in front of him. “You may have learned a few new tricks but never forget that  _ I’m  _ the master.”

As Yato watched his father’s chi spread from his hands to engulf his entire staff in glowing energy, he realized that he may be more out of his league than he had originally thought. 

“ _ Shit _ ,” he hissed, not realizing he’d spoken out loud until his father’s face twitched in amusement. 

Yato took two steps back, searching his mind frantically for an idea of how to block a weapon like that. It might shatter his swords if he didn’t maintain his chi well enough around them, not that he was ever certain he  _ could  _ extend his chi like that. Until six seconds ago he hadn’t even known it was possible. He would probably need several years of practice to mimic that effect. 

He tried anyway, but couldn’t extend his own chi any further than the handles of his own swords before it became too thin and shattered like glass. Frankly, he was surprised he’d managed any effect at all. The glow of Father’s chi engulfed weapons lit Father’s terrifying smile below like something from a ghost story. Yato gulped. 

Father leaped forward, swinging his chi engulfed staff towards Yato, who shifted both his swords into his left hand at the same time he encased his right hand in chi and reached out to catch the attack. The only thing that kept him from closing his eyes in preparation for pain was the years of battle training he’d received from his current opponent.

Both of them froze when their chi collided. The actual blade of the staff remained several inches from his hand, the space between the two occupied by their auras, burning and crackling against one another, fighting for dominance in the small space. The faintest flicker of shock flickered across his father’s face before it smoothed once more into his usual cold smile. 

“You’ll never defeat me, Yaboku. Even if you kill me, I have ways of coming back.” 

“Oh, I know about those, Amaterasu told me everything.” This time the shock in Father’s face lasted for longer than a flicker of a second, it splashed across his features and mixed with rage. “Weren’t expecting that, were you? Your old friend gave me exactly what I need to send you to the spirit world and keep you there. I wonder if she’ll be waiting for you? But don’t worry, I’ll take good care of Nora once you’re gone. We’re going to be free from you forever.” 

Father began attacking with the force of a rage Yato had never seen from him before. He almost never expressed true anger like this, he just kept smiling that cruel smile and inflicting terrible pain while he did. Yato had  _ never _ seen him like this and it honestly frightened him. Not in the same way he feared what was behind the smile, but in the way of a man who has stumbled into the den of a sleeping bear fears the animal he has awoken. 

Despite the fear, the change almost made things easier. Yato could stop thinking of the person in front of him as his dad. The man he’d known, if he’d ever really existed, had disappeared behind this wall of rage. He hoped the wall wouldn’t come down because it would be easier to kill him like this, like putting down a rabid animal.

A flash of movement in his peripheral vision alarmed him before Father’s boot swung for his side. Yato blocked the attack an inch from his abdomen, crying out when a blade slid between the bones of his palm. 

“What the hell?” Yato shouted, leaping away and gaping at his bloody palm. “Are there knives in  _ your fucking shoes you psychopath? _ ”

“You’re so weak, never willing to do what needed to be done unless I made you,” his father seemed to have regained his composure, his voice smooth like glass again. 

“That’s  _ insane _ ! And it didn’t even work!”

“It’s hard to believe you’re really my son.” 

“I’m  _ not _ !” Yato shouted. “You  _ stole _ me! Like a psycho who steals boys and has knife shoes!” 

“You really need to get over the knife shoes.” 

“No! It’s fucking weird! Where did you even get them?” 

His father glanced down at his shoes and shrugged. “It was pretty popular with bandits back in my day.” 

“I don’t care, that’s crazy!” Yato shouted, gesturing wildly with his bleeding hand and splattering blood everywhere. His father wiped a few drops of it off his face as Yato ripped off the hem of his pants to wrap hastily around his bleeding hand. 

Once that was done, he focused his chi in his fists again, lunging for his father, this time on the lookout for the knife shoes. He almost thought that he’d broken his father’s neck with the punch to the face until Father’s other fist swung up and dealt a crushing blow to Yato’s chest. Yato went flying back and crashed into a wall, wheezing when all the air was forced out of him. He tried to convince his bruised lungs to take in a complete inhale to no avail. This was worse than the time the crazy diner lady had broken all of his bones. 

He focused his entire will on creating a beam of chi like Tenjin had shown him and shot it at his approaching father, who barely had to move to dodge out of the way. He smirked, and Yato realized too late what his father was so smug about. 

He had been so focused on creating a powerful chi beam he’d forgotten about his mental wall.

* * *

“It’s all I’ve got and you’re trying to take it away from me!” Nora shouted, punching Yukine in the face. “You’ve brainwashed him!”

“ _ Us _ ?” Yukine shouted back incredulously. “Your trash dad literally took away his free will when he was being unruly! That’s  _ literal _ brainwashing!” 

“He never wanted to leave forever before you came along!”

“He literally always wanted to leave! That’s why he kept, you know, leaving!” Yukine snapped, kicking Nora hard in the stomach. 

She hit the ground on her hands and knees, grunting, before she flung herself back at him. “It’s your fault he left us behind!” 

“It’s your psycho dad he left behind! All he ever talks about is saving you from him!”

“So, I’m just supposed to let you kill my dad?” Nora cried, thrusting her sword forward so Yukine had to leap back to avoid being stabbed. 

“He’s not your dad! He stole you from my real parents! He probably killed them!” 

“My parents deserved to die! They tried to kill me! Father saved my life!”

* * *

_ “Where are we going?” She asked, looking up at her mother.  _

_ Her mother was acting strangely. Something had come over her this morning like a ghost, and she’d been stiff and distant, with eyes that stared at nothing all morning until she’d gotten to her feet and told her to come to the well with her.  _

_ “Is everything okay?”  _

_ Something the young girl couldn’t read came across her mother’s face, but it was gone in an instant. “Of course, it’s okay, sweetie,” she said in the empty tone that raised the little girl’s hackles.  _

_ “Mommy, mommy, can I help get the water from the well?” She asked, hoping that if she was a good enough little girl that Mommy would start feeling better.  _

_ “Of course, sweetheart,” her mother replied, still a thousand miles away.  _

_ They reached the well and her mother took the bucket from where it was hanging above the well and pulled it away, setting it on the ground next to them.  _

_ “Mommy, if we’re getting water why did you put the bucket on the ground?” _

_ “Don’t worry,” her mother replied, hoisting the little girl up by her armpits. “Everything is going to be okay.”  _

_ The little girl protested, trying to free herself as her mother lifted her up, that empty calm in her voice setting the little girl’s teeth on edge. Her protests turned to screams as her mother lifted her above the stone barrier around the well, then morphed into a terrified shriek when the hands that had been holding her vanished, and she was suddenly plummeting down, down, down, into the dark.  _

_ The little girl hit the water so hard she almost fainted, but she managed to keep her eyes open and focused on the tiny spot of light above her. She flung her short arms out in both directions, searching for purchase. She didn’t know how to swim. She needed to get to the wall to hold herself up. As she tossed about frantically, still shrieking for her mother, her small fingers brushed the stone wall and she flung herself towards it, clinging onto it desperately.  _

_ “Mommy! Mommy, help!” She screamed, her tiny arms struggling to support her weight as the chill of the water sapped the warmth from her fingers. “I’ll be a good girl I promise!” _

_ But her mother’s head never appeared in the opening above her, and when she quieted down to hear if maybe her mother was calling for help, if maybe this whole thing had been some terrible mistake, only the sounds of the cold water lapping at the stones met her ears.  _

_ “Mommy!” She whined again, tears choking off her voice. She opened her mouth to try to cry out again when a high-pitched female scream tore the air and the little girl screamed in fright.  _

_ “MOMMY!” Nora screamed, pressing closer to the wall of the dark well.  _

_ A head popped into view above her.  _

_ “Mommy?” She whimpered.  _

_ “Hello there, little one,” the voice called out. The little girl frowned, sniffling, and pressed closer to the wall of the well. She couldn’t tell anything about this man’s face, he was too far away and the light behind his head was blocking him out.  _

_ “Where’s my mommy?” _

_ “Your mommy is dead, child,” said the impossibly cheerful voice. “How fortunate for you, because she was going to leave you here to die. Poor pathetic child, loved by no one, not even her own mother.”  _

_ The little girl opened her mouth and began to wail loudly. The man was silent for a few moments, leaning comfortably against the stone wall of the well, content to listen to her misery until she quieted down enough for him to make his proposal. _

_ “If you’re a good little girl and stay quiet I’ll save you. I’ll even take you home with me and you’ll be safe. You’re much better off with me than that nasty mommy who killed her child because she couldn’t afford to feed her.  _

_ The little girl blinked in surprise. Carefully, she lifted her voice to speak to him. “You’ll help me?”  _

_ “Sure will. I’ll be your new father, how’s that? I’ll take good care of you. Or I could leave you here to die like your mommy did, what say you?”  _

_ “Please help me,” she whimpered.  _

_ The man nodded once, and his head disappeared briefly before appearing next to the bucket. “I’m going to send this down and you climb in and hold tight.” _

_ She did as she was told, and seconds later the rope was engulfed in a crackling golden light and she was being hoisted up and out of the darkness, then being pulled into the arms of a man she’d never seen before.  _

_ “Let’s go home now, shall we?”  _

_ When she pulled back to look at the face of her new father her eyes moved past his shaggy black hair and landed on the splatter of blood across his face. Her mother’s blood. A knife of fear dug into her heart before a shiver wracked her body and she remembered how cold the water in the well had been.  _

_ It served her right. _

* * *

“That’s… I’m so sorry,” Yukine said softly, unsure how to react to the information. “...but, Yato loves you, and he’s not going to hurt you just because you don’t do what he says just like our parents did. That’s not love.” 

Her eyes narrowed. “What do you know about it?” She asked, though Yukine suspected she already knew the answer. 

He thought about the scars covering his own body and bit his lip. “A lot,” he said thickly.

* * *

_ Everything was fine _ . 

That’s right. It was fine. Why had he been so angry a moment ago? Everything was fine and the voice in his head was so soothing, so calming. A warm fuzzy feeling filled him up and put him at ease. 

_ Get up. _

He climbed out of the wall and stood, ignoring the protest in his joints and injuries. They were fine.  _ Everything _ was fine. 

_ Sheathe your swords. _

He did as he was told. Why wouldn’t he?

A soft chuckling passed in one of his ears and out the other, briefly raising the hair on his neck, but it settled again quickly enough. 

“You’ve always been so easy to control, Yaboku.” 

Control? What did he mean by that? 

“Now go be a dear and kill your friends.”

Friends? Like Rabo? Rabo was dead, Yato had already killed him. 

A current of displeasure filled his mind, covering up the wash of grief the thought of Rabo had brought. Yato frowned. Who was he supposed to kill? Why was Father upset with him? 

“Kill the intruders, Monkey and Crane.” 

Those names stirred something in him, but what? What was it? Oh, right, he was supposed to kill them. His friends. 

Yato took a few steps towards the door, already planning how he was going to do it, images of the destruction he would create filling his mind. Bodies in a large pool of blood, golden eyes vacant and staring, a long brown ponytail soaked with red. His feet stalled, heart lurching. 

He didn’t want to kill them. 

Yato saw more images, this time memories: pink eyes light with laughter, a face scrunched with agony beneath a mop of yellow hair, a finger pointing towards a panda, two people using him as a pillow as they watched the clouds go by. 

_ Go _ , the voice hissed in his mind.  _ Kill them. You  _ want  _ too _ . 

Light-hearted laughter filled his ears, drowning out the voice in his head. His heart swelled. 

He  _ didn’t _ want to kill them. He  _ loved  _ them. They were his family. Hiyori and Yukine meant  _ everything  _ to him, why would he want to kill them? He shook his head, trying to clear out the fuzz that had filled it. Was this…? He was being controlled by his father. His father was trying to make him kill his  _ family.  _

_ Again _ . 

Yato snarled, fixing furious eyes on his shocked father. He tried to spin around but found himself unable. It seemed his father still had control of his body, if not his mind. 

_ Find him, find the intruder _ , he heard Kazuma say. 

That’s right. Another person he loved, Kazuma, who had taught him how to keep control of his own mind and body. 

Yato took himself back to the bamboo thicket and peered around carefully for the thing that didn’t fit. At first, he couldn’t find it, and he cursed himself for picking a place with so many hiding places, but then he shook himself and focused harder. His father would be lingering in the shadows somewhere, so he focused hard and tried to find anything out of place. 

There, hovering on the edge of his vision was a mass of shadows that moved unnaturally, and now that he saw it he could  _ feel  _ it, and he couldn’t believe he hadn’t felt it before, pushing up against him and trying to gain control. Yato focused himself on the mass of shadows and began to shove, feeling a current of shock when he started to succeed. Emboldened, he pushed harder, sinking to the ground with the effort of maintaining this onslaught against his father. 

He began to build up his wall again, brick by brick, until he was completely sealed off from his father and he turned to throw a tiredly triumphant smile at his stunned dad. 

“I told you, old man, I’m pretty good at this chi thing.” 

Yato climbed to his feet and curled his hands into fists, forcing his sore muscles to leap forward to strike his father like a snake. Yato imbued his fist with all the chi he could muster on such short notice and struck so hard that his father was thrown across the entire length of the room and crashed into the wall. Yato knew that  _ this  _ was his one and only chance. 

Suddenly remembering the way that Kazuma had pinned him to the tree that day in the bamboo thicket, Yato threw his swords at father one after another. One of the swords lodged deeply in his shoulder, making the entire arm useless, while the other slipped through the bones of his wrist and sank into the wood behind it, pinning him in place. 

Yato approached slowly, glowering, and hoping that his father was feeling all the fear that he’d ever felt every time he’d ever been dragged into this very room to be punished. Slowly he called forth the spell that Amaterasu had taught him. Father’s eyes widened in recognition and he started yanking on his impaled wrist. The blade tore the soft flesh, but the hard bones in the joint kept it from going any further. Still, Father kept pulling and Yato had no doubt that he would tear the limb in two to escape this spell. 

Yato delivered the first spell with a bone-cracking punch to his father’s sternum. Yato’s ears were met with the sound of his ribs cracking and his breath whooshing out of him before a sphere of golden light lit the space between them and began expanding from their point of contact. 

The ball of energy grew rapidly, musing Yato’s hair and quickly growing large enough to fill the entire room. The line of chi blew past the dueling pairs outside right as Hiyori finally managed to bury her naginata in Fujisaki’s chest. It kept on going through the Forest of Despair to the spot where the rest of the warriors were fighting the remaining Phantoms, much the worse for wear and starting to show their exhaustion at last. When the light passed through the Phantoms they dropped like puppets with their strings cut, but it wasn’t long before they started stirring again, their minds and bodies returned to them at last. 

Yato half laughed and half gasped. 

“I returned all the chi you stole and took away the chi you had on your own. You won’t be able to break out of the Spirit Realm now. I’d ask if you have any last words, but I don’t really give a shit.” 

Yato planted one hand on his father’s forehead and the other on his bruised chest and recited the final incantation that would end his father’s reign of terror for good. There were two seconds where nothing happened after he finished where he worried that he had failed, then the quiet whispering of energy dissipating told him it had worked, and he watched as his father’s body disappeared. The sword that had still been implanted in his shoulder clattered to the ground. 

Yato ripped his blood-stained katana from the wall and fell backward, suddenly off-balance. He landed on his ass beside his wakizashi that had fallen to the ground when his father faded away. The sound of several sets of footsteps thundering toward him barely registered as he stared up at the hole in the wall where his father had been, mere moments ago, still hardly daring to believe it. 

Yukine, Nora, and Hiyori all stopped dead when they saw him there like that, on the ground and gaping at nothing. They apparently put two and two together without the need for him to explain it. 

“Father?” Nora whimpered. 

“You did it!” Hiyori cried.

* * *

Too much suffering had occurred here for Yato to let the building stand. He hadn’t even bothered with a farewell tour. Once he’d fully processed what had happened and finished with his half-hysterical laughing, with tears streaming down his face, he had realized that Nora was behind him, and that she had collapsed to the ground, crying silently. 

It hadn’t taken much time to convince her to come with him, though she had screamed and cried at first, she had nowhere else to go, after all, but she wouldn’t speak to him. 

After that Yato only bothered with two rooms. First, he stopped by Nora’s room to check on her packing progress. She didn’t respond.  _ Well, I guess that’s as good as I can expect,  _ he thought. 

He decided to leave her to her packing and her grief and crossed the hall into the room he’d shared with Rabo. The bedclothes were still rumpled like he’d only just stepped out of them, but the hearth was long cold, betraying the rooms abandonment. In a daze, Yato walked out to the porch where he’d sat so often and could almost feel the ghost of Rabo’s gaze on his back. The garden was still dead and untended like it had always been, nothing like the carefully groomed grounds of the Jade Palace. Still, after all the time he’d spent staring out at this exact scenery imagining a happy life with Rabo he was almost sorry to say goodbye to it. Almost. 

Yato turned away from the garden and strode to their closet, sliding the door open. Nothing that Yato had left behind couldn’t be replaced, he was interested only in Rabo’s things. One thing in particular. Hiyori had informed him that the people who had gone back and buried Rabo had removed his weapons- his most prized possessions- and they were waiting at the Jade Palace for Yato, his next of kin, to do with as he saw fit. 

The only other thing of Rabo’s that he couldn’t bear to be parted with was the long coat that had been big enough, even on Rabo, for Yato to snuggle up inside with him and shelter from the cold. From time to time Yato had wondered if Rabo had bought it big for that reason or if it had been for weapon concealment. It hardly mattered now, he supposed. 

Yato spotted the jacket at once and slipped it from its hook, pressing it to his face and inhaling. It still held Rabo’s smell. A sob ripped its way out of Yato’s throat without permission and Yato collapsed around it, clutching the jacket to his face like a lifeline. This was all he had left of him, and soon the scent would fade, leaving only the jacket. It wasn’t enough. Even now he longed for the warmth and comfort he’d felt being snuggled inside this jacket with Rabo. He would never feel those arms around him again. Several more sobs shook his body, and he let them, muffling his sobs with the sleeves. 

Yato allowed himself to cry for several more minutes before he forced himself to regain his composure and straighten back up. He wiped his eyes on his own sleeves and shook his head. On impulse, he grabbed two of Rabo’s shirts and rolled them up inside the jacket before turning to leave forever. 

Nora was waiting for him outside the door. She glanced at the bundle in his arms like she already knew what she was going to see before turning away wordlessly, leading the way out of the compound for the last time. 

The others were waiting for them outside beside the small fire he’d asked them to build. Hiyori and Yukine held a bow and a single thatch tipped arrow each, and when they approached Kazuma and Kofuku stepped forward to relieve them of their burdens. Yato hadn’t discussed with Nora what he’d been planning to do, but it was fairly self-explanatory. She took the bow and arrow from Yukine and lit the arrow on fire, then looked to Yato expectantly. He followed suit, and at the same time, they drew then released their arrows and watched as they cut fiery arcs through the air before they landing on the wooden roof. 

The Forest of Despair was green and brimming with life, and Yato wondered vaguely if, now that his father was gone, the forest would be renamed. It was the wet season, and even as they stood waiting for the fire to catch and spread, there were storm clouds brewing on the horizon, they were putting nothing in danger. Yato and Nora took their parcels back and walked into the woods, their friends close behind.


	18. Epilogue- We Must Be better

Yato and Nora stood together at the foot of the grave, staring silently for several minutes. Yato wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed her reassuringly. 

“I know this is how he wanted it to end,” she said, voice tight with the strain of holding back tears, “but I really miss him.”

“Me too,” Yato whispered, letting his own tears fall, “but Rabo could never have lived in the world we’re trying to create. We were all just cold-blooded killers, but you and I have a chance to change now.” Nora swiped at her eyes quickly and Yato pretended not to notice.

“I don’t know if I can do it,” she whispered. 

“I know you can, I’ll help you. We can’t be the people we used to be, Master Rabbit. We must be better.” 

She didn’t comment on the new title, but she hadn’t protested when he’d suggested it, which he took as a good sign. They shared a few more moments of quiet communion at Rabo’s grave, tucked away in a private corner of the Jade Palace grounds, out of the way but easily found by those who knew where to look. They seemed to silently agree that it was time to go and turned together towards the Jade Palace and the life they would forge there, together, with the ghost of their past watching over them and guiding them away from the dark. 


End file.
